England Joins The War
by pupeez4eva
Summary: England goes to Hogwarts to teach History of Magic. Meanwhile, America is certain that Russia is planning on starting World War III.
1. Prologue

"So." Dumbledore settled back into the soft, plush couch and smiled at the man in front of him. "What do you say?"

"About teaching at Hogwarts?" England settled back into his chair. "I already gave you my answer."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, I know," he said. "I was hoping you'd changed your mind about that. We need as much help as possible with the war brewing on, and with _you _helping out..."

"I will help as much as possible. Of course I will. But actually _teaching _at Hogwarts..." England shook his head. "I simply do not have enough time."

"Why?" Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "You've done it plenty of times in the past."

"Yes, I have," England agreed, "and I have enjoyed it. But I am _busy _now, and working at Hogwarts isn't going to help that. You're right - there is a war that is getting worse and worse by the day. But it isn't the only problem that I have to deal with."

"Surely, you would be able to do what you need to do from within Hogwarts." Despite his smile, England couldn't help but notice a tinge of desperation showing through. He sighed; if _Dumbledore _was allowing his fear to show, then it must have been worse than he thought.

"Is the Ministry still denying the existence of Voldemort?" England shot another glance at his old friend; yes, that was definitely apprehension shining in the other male's eyes.

"Unfortunately, yes," Dumbledore replied. "They refuse to even entertain the possibility."

"Fools," England muttered, shaking his head. "They have no idea what their ignorance is doing."

"The only hope we have is Harry Potter," Dumbledore said. "You know of the prophecy."

"Of course." England nodded his head. "I'm guessing that Potter has no clue."

"None at all," Dumbledore replied. "I did not want to dump a burden like that on that boy. He has had a hard life. It just wouldn't be fair to tell him that the fate of the Wizarding World is resting on his shoulders."

"Well when you put it like that, of course not!" England laughed. He took a moment to glance at his friend. "You realise," he said, _"Potter _is the only one who can vanquish Voldemort. Which astounds me, really. I mean how hard could it be to kill one man? Hmm...its almost like a challenge."

"Does that mean you'll be joining us at Hogwarts?" A twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eyes. England rolled his eyes.

"If Potter is the only one who can destroy the Dark Lord then what good will I be?"

"If _you _are no good then what can we possible do?" Dumbledore laughed. "You are _England."_

"Well yes" England agreed. "But in the end, only Potter can kill Voldemort."

"But there are Death Eaters," Dumbledore reminded him. "All Voldemort's followers who are almost as bad. And despite the prophecy, how can a child have that much responsibility hanging over him? Harry needs help - and who better to help him than his country?"

England sighed. "You manipulating old sod. Fine, I'll help you."


	2. Chapter 2

"They all think I'm crazy," Harry said, glowering miserably down at the table. "Completely barmy. No one believes that Voldemort's really come back."

"We believe you mate," Ron said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "And my family, and the rest of the guys in the Order."

"Ron, shh!" Hermione hissed, narrowing her eyes. "We aren't supposed to mention it!" Shooting a glance at Harry, she added in a softer tone; "Besides, you don't know that Harry. I'm sure there are plenty of people who are supportive of you."

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "I just don't understand how everyone could be so set on denying it -"

"Hey," Ron leaned forward, squinting at the end of the hall. "Whose that guy?"

"Hmm." Hermione observed the figure in question. "A new student, maybe? Although he does look too old...perhaps a teacher? No, no...he's much to young for that..." She gazed at him for a moment. "He's rather attractive, isn't he?" she murmured, before blushing bright red.

"Oh there she goes again!" groaned Ron. "Are you ever _not _chasing after some bloke?"

"I don't chase!" Hermione snapped, defensively. "I was just...stating a fact. He _is _attractive. Although, he could do without those ink smudges on his face..."

"Uh..." Harry frowned. "Hermione, I think those are his eyebrows."

Ron snorted. "No way, mate," he laughed. "No set of eyebrows could possibly be that big."

"I have to agree with Ron on this one," Hermione said. "I don't think its physically possible."

"I'm telling you those are eyebrows," Harry said. "They don't look _anything_ like ink smudges."

"Hey look at that old Toad over there." Ron pointed to a woman dressed in bright pink. "Strange batch of people this year, huh?"

Dumbledore waved his arm for quiet and the hall became silent. Harry, Hermione and Ron listed intently to what their headmaster had to say.

"I would like to welcome you all to a brand new year," he said. "Before we begin, I'd like to introduce our two new professors to you all. Professor Umbridge -" He waved a hand towards the woman. "And Professor Kirkland."

The man - Professor Kirkland - smiled slightly.

"He's a professor?" Hermione looked visibly surprised. "But he's so young!"

"Maybe not." Harry shrugged. "I mean there are people who look younger than they really are, right?"

"Professor Umbridge will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said. "Professor Kirkland will be taking over Professor Bins roll as professor of History of Magic for the rest of this year."

_"Seriously?" _Ron exclaimed. "How the hell did that guy manage that? He must be some sort of miracle worker! I always thought that is was physically impossible to get Bins to leave."

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. "Professor Bins isn't _gone. _Professor Kirkland will only be teaching us for this year."

"Kind of weird though, don't you think?" Harry frowned. "I claim Voldemort's real, no one believes me and then suddenly, we have a new teacher for _History of Magic? _I mean, I'd understand DADA - we have a new teacher for that every year. But _History of Magic?"_

"Hey, I'm not complaining if it gets rid of Bins," Ron replied.

"You're being too paranoid," Hermione said. "He looks harmless!"

"He could be working for Voldemort," Harry murmured. "Or maybe the Ministry. Who knows?"

"Yeah and besides - Mione's only saying he's harmless because she likes him!"

"Oh shut up Ron!" Hermione snapped, glaring at her friend.

Harry rolled his eyes at his friends antics. "Either way," he said. "I'm going to be keeping an eye on that guy."

...

Arthur walked into the room that had been assigned to him for the rest of his stay at Hogwarts. It was familiar to him; this was not his first time at the school and each time, he had stayed in this very room.

He remembered the time when he had brought America and Canada along with him. The two had been young then, and still his colonies. Canada had practically clung to him the entire time, barely saying a word to those around him. He had always been shy. America on the other hand had created a ruckus, driving all the teachers insane. England sighed at the memories.

He dumped his bags on the floor and settled himself onto the bed. Teaching at Hogwarts...well he had always enjoyed it. It was nice to get away from all his responsibilities as a nation...and while Hogwarts wasn't exactly _relaxing _it gave him more of a break that he ever got.

England thought about the Potter boy, who he had caught staring at him before dinner had begun. The boy looked just like his father, England thought. He had met the Potter's shortly during the war, on the few visits he had made to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Of course the boy had his mother's eyes.

The prophecy really did amaze him. After all, how could a boy defeat one of the most powerful wizards of all time? Dumbledore may have believed it but England wasn't ready to put the fate of his country at risk if the prophecy turned out to be false. Maybe Harry Potter truly was the chosen one; or maybe it was all a load of crock. Either way, now that he was here, he would be keeping a very close eye over the war.

...

The next day, as Harry stepped entered his History of Magic class, he felt apprehensive. What would the new teacher be like? Harry didn't know why but he got an odd feeling about his new teacher...the man wasn't quite right. But then again, when were any of the teachers at Hogwarts?

Professor Kirkland sat behind his desk, his eyes narrowed as he shuffled through a stack of paper. Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye as he walked over and sat down inbetween Ron and Hermione.

"Hopefully the bloke'll be better than Professor Bins," Ron whispered.

Hermione glared at him. "Oh, for Merlin's sake Ron! Professor Bins wasn't that bad!"

"Of course _you'd _say that," Ron replied, rolling his eyes.

"Alright then." The trio - along with the rest of the class - fell silent as Professor Kirkland stood up, staring at the students with a critical eye. "Welcome to History of Magic. Before we begin - yes?"

Professor Kirkland raised one eyebrow at Neville, who had nervously lifted his arm in the air.

"Um..." Neville glanced around awkwardly, avoiding the professors eye. "You...you have something on your face, sir." He gestured towards the professors forehead, his cheeks burning bright red.

Professor Kirkland stared at him.

"Yes" he said, after a moment, his voice expressionless. "My eyebrows."

Someone snickered.

Harry felt embarrassed on behalf of his friend; Neville looked like he wanted to die.

"S-s-sorry" the boy stuttered. "I didn't mean to -"

"Anyway," Professor Kirkland cut him off. "Would anyone like to tell me what you have been doing up until this point?"

Hermione lifted her hand.

"Yes, Ms -" the Professor gazed at her expectantly.

"Granger. Hermione Granger," Hermione replied, beaming. "And well...we've been learning about the Goblin Rebellions."

Professor Kirkland nodded his head. "Alright. And the previous year -"

"The Goblin Rebellions."

Silence. "Yes, well - the years before that?"

"Um..." Hermione looked slightly embarrassed. "The Goblin Rebellions."

Professor Kirkland stared at her. "You...you've learned about nothing but the _Goblin Rebellions _up until now? For the past four years you've been here...that's all you've learnt?"

The entire class nodded.

Professor Kirkland's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Very well then," he said. "Class - forget everything you've learned about those...rebellions. We'll start from the very beginning."

Harry shared a look with Ron. No more Goblin Rebellions? This year suddenly seemed much more promising.


	3. Chapter 3

America stared at as Russia left the room, his eyes narrowed and filled with suspicion.

"What are you looking at?" said a voice from beside him. America jumped.

"W-when did you get here?" he stuttered, whirling around to face the person behind him.

"I've been here the whole time - I'm Canada, remember?" Canada raised one eyebrow.

"Oh yeah - that guy!" America beamed. "I didn't know you came to meetings anymore!"

"Yes" Canada said, with a slight nod. "That's what you've been saying for the past few decades."

"So" America leaned back, once again eyeing the door. "Do you think the commie-bastard is up to something?"

"Russia?" Canada's brow furrowed. "No, why?"

"Well...you know. He's on the phone a lot nowadays and he hardly ever has that disturbing smile on his face anymore. He's always so...serious. Serious _isn't good. _The last time he was _serious _he was killing people during the Cold War. _Plus _I swear I heard him mention the word 'attack' _tons _of times on the phone! Don't tell me that's not suspicious?"

"Um..." Canada shrugged his shoulders. "I guess it's a little...strange. But America... really think you're looking into things too much."

America considered this for a moment. "No" he finally said. "The bastards up to something. Something bad. And when I find out he's planning another World War -"

"Wait, wait!" his brother cut him off. "Planning another _World War? _When did we get _there?"_

"Oh please, it's probably what he's planning" America said. "I mean, it's _him. _The idea's probably been tempting him for years. Plus, who _else _would be able to pull of something like that? He'd probably just have to flash that disturbing smile at someone and they'd come running onto his side, just so he wouldn't kill them! Well not me of course, because I'm the hero, but - hey Russia!"

America abruptly stopped his ramblings, his eyes growing wide as the nation in question walked back into the room.

"I'm going to be keeping my eye on him" America whispered to his brother, once Russia was out of earshot.

* * *

"Well, I'll give the guy this" Ron said as he, Harry and Hermione left the classroom. "He's a pretty good teacher."

"I know!" Hermione enthused. "The way he describes everything - it's simply amazing. It's almost as if he was _there."_

"Yeah I guess" Harry frowned. "Still, there's something not quite right about him."

"Oh Harry, you're being too paranoid" Hermione scolded. "In my opinion, Professor Kirkland is a wonderful teacher. We should have had someone like him teaching History of Magic all along."

"Yeah!" Ron agreed, grinning. "The bloke makes history _interesting. _I didn't think that was possible - _and _this was just the intro!"

Harry bit his lip and shrugged. Truth be told, he too thought that Professor Kirkland was a great teacher. The man may have been young but when he spoke he radiated that aura of wisdom and experience that he had only ever seen on Dumbledore.

Still. Despite all this he couldn't help but get the feeling that there was something wrong with the Professor. It put him slightly on edge. As much as he wanted to trust the new professor, he didn't want to make the same mistakes he had made in the past. He always seemed to put his trust in the wrong people.

This time he was going to be more cautious.

* * *

The day past rather quickly.

England had few classes to teach that day and so, spent the rest of his time holed up in his room, sorting out and arranging his things. By the time he was done dinner had already begun.

He made his way down to the Great Hall, taking in his surroundings as he walked. Hogwarts hadn't changed one bit; it was the same as ever. England smiled; as the world changed, Hogwarts stayed the same. He hoped it wouldn't be changing any time soon.

When England entered the Great Hall he was immediately assaulted by the sounds of loud voices. The long tables were filled with chattering students; yet another thing that hadn't changed.

He headed over to the staff table and slid into an empty seat next to the Potion's Master, Severus Snape.

Snape glanced up at him and scowled.

"Arthur!" Dumbledore glanced up and beamed. "How was your first day of teaching."

"Splendid" England replied. Beside him, Snape snorted. England shot him a glance.

"I'm surprised" the Potion's Master said in a silky, mocking tone. "That someone so...young is even qualified to teach."

"I'm not as young as I appear" England retorted. Snape's brow furrowed slightly; England inwardly smirked, awarding himself for confusing the other man. The nation was already starting to take a disliking to him.

"I've heard some good things about you traveling around the school" a plump woman who England regonised as Pomona Sprout said, beaming widely. "The students certainly seem to think you are a good teacher."

"Well, I'm certainly trying" England said.

Snape scoffed.

"Do you have something stuck in your throat?" England asked him, giving him a short glance.

Dumbledore chuckled.

Snape's scowl deepened.

"So" spat the Potion's Master. "How did you come across this job?"

"Dumbledore offered it to me" England replied.

"You expect me to believe that _Dumbledore _personally asked you to come teach here? Oh please. What favours did you need to pull to get a job here?"

"Severus!" snapped Professor McGonagall.

"Actually, Severus" Dumbledore said. "I _did _ask Arthur to come teach here."

England inwardly smirked; he felt even more smug as he caught the embarrassed look that crossed the other mans face.

'_Take that, you git. Don't try to mess with your country.'_

* * *

"Professor Kirkland's been talking to Professor Snape" Harry observed. "Snape looks annoyed."

"Mate" Ron said, his mouth full of food. "If you don't stop talking about him, I'm going to start thinking you fancy the guy."

* * *

**AN:**

**Hope that chapter was alright. Any feedback would be great so, review please?**

**Also, to everyone who reviewed my previous chapters and who favourited and followed this story - thanks! You are all awesome :D**


	4. Chapter 4

England was having a very bad day.

It hadn't started out that way. He'd woken up and heard footsteps outside his door; for a moment he had frozen up, expecting an annoying cry of "THE HERO'S HERE!" or the sinister _'hon hon hon' _that was France's laugh.

A moment later he'd remembered; he was at Hogwarts. It was enough to make him want to get up and start dancing with joy. He was at Hogwarts. France couldn't break into his house and molest him when he wasn't looking; he didn't have to put up with America's horrible, butchered english. He didn't have to make an effort to remember that one guy everyone forgot about (...what was his name? Melvin? Mathias?).

Then he'd left the room, gone to the Great Hall and had been greeted with the site of tables and tables stacked with beautiful, _beautiful _English food. And everyone was enjoying it. There were no annoying imbeciles complaining about the taste.

Classes had gone excellently. Of course a few of those Slytherin's had gotten on his last nerves but other than that, everyone had been surprisingly attentive.

By the end of his last class for the day, England had concluded that he was having an excellent day.

He'd then made the mistake of going outside. He'd wanted to take in the sight of that beautiful Hogwarts lake and admire yet another feature of the amazing country that he represented.

And then some oversized, overweight beast had jumped on him and, as soon as he had hit the ground (hard) he'd decided that this day wasn't that great after all.

"GET OF ME YOU VILLAINOUS BEAST!" roared England, struggling under the...dog? Wolf? Bear?

The..._thing _let out a loud noise and pressed it's furry body closer to the struggling nation.

"I SAID OFF! _OFF! _DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHO I AM? I SAID DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA -"

"Hey!" there was the sound of a male voice. "Fang, get of 'im."

"GET OFF!" England yelled, frustration coating his tone.

A moment later the _thing _had been pulled off him. With gritted teeth, he pulled himself up and glared at the beast.

An oversized dog with a long, lolling tongue stared back at him.

"You...you..." he snarled.

The man next to him - a _humongous _man - smiled apologetically. "Sorry 'bout Fang. He jus' gets excited."

England's eyebrow twitched. "Yes" he said, speaking through gritted teeth. "I could tell."

"Eh?" the man's brow furrowed. "Yeh alrigh'? Yeh seem a little off."

'_Of course I'm 'off' you oaf.' _"I'm fine" England said, trying to sound pleasant.

"Yeh're tha new professor, righ?" the man gazed at him curiously. "Tha one for History of Magic."

"Yes" England replied, quickly shooting the dog a dirty look.

"Well, nice to meet yeh" the man said. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid. Tha Games keeper."

England stared at him blankly. _'What the hell is a Games keeper?' _

"So" Hagrid said, petting the monstrosity standing innocently next to him. "You likin' tha school so far?"

"Yes" England nodded his head.

"Well tha's good" Hagrid beamed. "It's great workin' here, isn't it? Jus' gotta love this place."

England smiled. Now that was something he could relate to.

Hagrid frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. "Eh" he said. "I better go now...Fang needs 'is lunch soon. Poor boy gets agitated otherwise."

England took a step back. "Yes" he said, shooting the dog a nervous glance. "That would be for the best."

"Well, nice talking to ye" Hagrid said. "Maybe yeh can stop by some time. Have a cuppa an some cake in my hut."

"Uh" England didn't think that was very likely...not with that monster around. But he couldn't exactly say that so he nodded his head anyway. "Sure. That would be nice."

Hagrid beamed and walked away, dragging Fang with him. England silently thanked the heavens when that creature disappeared from site.

He glanced down at his muddy clothes and let out a low curse.

Yes; his excellent day was damaged beyond repair.

* * *

Hermione could feel excitement and nervousness bubbling within her.

She'd always found History of Magic an interesting class, despite the repetitive topic of 'Goblin Rebellions' and Professor Bin's style of teaching. Most people would call her insane, teachers and students both.

The class had become an amazing schooling experience since the arrival of Professor Kirkland. The young man wasn't just a nice sight to look at; the way he spoke of history, it was as if he had been there himself. It was almost intimidating at times due to aura of wisdom it gave him.

Hermione had been amazed by today's class. Finally leaving the topic of Goblin Rebellions, the class had been introduced to the story of a massacre that had occurred a little of a hundred years ago. The Professor had owned a copy of a book about the event, written by one of the survivors of the massacre. The book was almost as old as the event itself and so, there were very few copies left. By the end of the class Hermione had been thirsting for more information.

She shifted from one foot to the other, looking around the corridor to see if she could catch site of the Professor. She wanted to ask him if she could borrow the book; there wasn't much written about the event and certainly nothing as good as the account of someone who had actually been there.

The sound of soft cursing filled the corridor.

"Bloody dog...ruined my day...would've taken America over it...hell maybe even France...no not him..."

"Um, Professor...?" Hermione ventured, glancing around the corner. She blinked when she caught sight of him. He was a mess, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction (sadly though, it wasn't enough to put Harry's to shame) and mud covering his formerly pristine clothes.

He saw her, stopped abruptly, and let out another loud curse. Hermione stepped back, alarmed and embarrassed,

"Sorry" Professor Kirkland said, hurriedly.

"Uh, I wanted to talk to you about something -" Hermione said, her cheeks still pink. "I...I thought todays class was magnificent. I found myself completely entranced by you!"

The Professor stared at her. Hermione felt horrified as she realized what she had just said.

"I-I mean what you were saying! I found myself entranced by what you were saying!"

"Alright then" Professor Kirkland blinked. "Well then...dear...I really must be going. As you can see..." he gestured to himself. Hermione's cheeks grew brighter, this time with delight at being referred to as 'dear' by her latest crush.

"I was wondering if I could borrow the book?" she asked, quickly. "For some light reading. I found it very interesting."

"Light reading" Professor Kirkland shot her an odd look. "I doubt that book is good for 'light reading.'"

"I'll take good care of it" Hermione promised. "I just want to read it. I want to know more about what happened. I won't damage it or anything, I completely adore books. You can ask anyone they'll tell you."

The Professor stared at her for a few moments.

"Uh, yes" he said after a moment. "I don't see why it would be a problem...it's still in the classroom, if you'd like to duck in their and get it."

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!" Hermione beamed. She hurried down the corridor, excitement bubbling in her veins.

* * *

England shook his head as he watched her disappear. What an odd child.

* * *

**AN:**

**Hope this chapter was alright. I'll hopefully be getting to the main part o the plot soon...I hope you aren't bored with the story.**

**Comments, feedback, criticism...just review and tell me, okay? I'd really appreciate it :D**


	5. Chapter 5

Despite his plan to 'keep a closer eye' on Professor Kirkland, Harry soon found himself weighed down by school work and the latest on his list of people-to-hate (below Voldemort, Wormtail and a few other Death Eaters but on a tie with Snape), Professor Umbridge.

The woman was out to get him. There was no doubt about it. Ever since that first class, he'd known. This detention just proved it.

Harry rubbed his palm, wincing at the still lingering pain. What sort of detention was that, anyway? Was that even legal to physically harm a student?

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced up and inwardly sighed.

Proffesor Kirkland.

"You alright there lad?" the other man asked, raising one of his creepily-large eyebrows in concern. Harry nodded his head, not completely intent on starting a conversation with someone he was still suspicious of.

"Yeah" he said. "I'm fine."

"You just had a detention with Professor Umbridge, am I right?"

Harry's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Yeah" he said. "How did you know?"

Professor Kirkland raised one eyebrow and Harry quickly smoothed out his expression, feeling embarrassed by the fact that the Professor had probably seen it on his face.

"She's been bragging about it to anyone who will listen" the Professor replied. "And since no one other than Professor Snape cares, she's now evolved into telling everyone in the vicinity. The Professor's have begun to go out of their way to avoid the 'Toad from Hell' as they call her" he paused and shook his head. "Although I probably shouldn't be telling you that."

Harry laughed.

The Professor's face darkened slightly. "Sweet Lord, the 'Toad from Hell' he muttered, shaking his head. "Much to close to...'Frog.'" He shuddered slightly. "Now thats much to close to home for my liking. That Bloody Frog..."

Harry stared at him. The Professor caught seemed to suddenly remember that he was still in the room and shook his head, looking embarrassed,

"Sorry, Mr. Potter" he apologized. "Just thinking about...someone who I am unfortunate enough to know. If you ever hear a sinister French laugh, I'd run if I were you." He let out a small laugh, although something told Harry that he wasn't completely joking.

"Well then" the Professor gave him another smile. "I must be going now. I still haven't planned tomorrow's lesson. Ta-ta."

"Uhh..."

"Oh" Professor Kirkland abruptly stopped and turned around. "By the way, you can stop staring at me suspiciously all of the time. Despite what you may think, I am not a Death Eater in disguise, out to get you. I don't understand why anyone would want to be. A bit of a waste of time, don't you think?"

Harry stared. "I...I never thought..." he stammered, his eyes wide.

The Professor waved a hand dismissivly. "Well of course you did" he replied. "I'm not blind, you know. Well then - have a nice day Mr. Potter" he gave him another brief smile before walking off down the corridor and disappearing around the corner.

Harry continued to stare at him, his mouth agape.

* * *

Rather than going straight to his room to plan his next lesson like he had told Harry, England walked in the opposite direction towards Dumbledore's office.

He was pleased when he caught site of his old friend standing in the corridor outside. It would save him the time of threatening the gargoyles to let him inside.

He was less pleased to see the 'Toad from Hell' standing there as well.

"I'm just saying -" the sound of the woman's sickly sweet voice felt like a knife being pressed into his ear. England brushed past her, ignoring her indignant cry, and turned towards Dumbledore.

"I saw Mr. Potter in the corridor on my way here" England said. "He was rubbing his hand. Albus, I was just wondering if you knew that Professor Umbridge was using a blood quill in her detentions."

Umbridge let out yet another little cry and stamped her foot on the floor. "I don't know what you're implying here!"

"I'm not implying anything" England said, calmly. "I think I made myself quite clear. You've been harming students in your detentions."

"You have no proof!" she yelled, angrilly.

England stared at her as if she were a complete idiot. "You were telling Professor Snape about it the other day."

"He told you -" she stopped abruptly and shook her head. "Lies!"

"Oh for crying out loud" he shook her head. "Never go undercover, your lying skills are completely rubbish. You'd get yourself killed faster than that idiot Ame - Alfred would."

"I won't stand for this!" Umbridge stuck her nose into the air, glowering furiously. "I work for the Minster, you will treat me with respect or...or..." the women pushed past and stormed down the corridor.

England stared after her, shaking his head. "What a bitch."

Dumbledore coughed, trying to disguise a chuckle. "You shouldn't have pushed her so far" he said, as if repremanding a child. "We are in a rough spot with the Ministry as it is."

"Did you know?" England stared at the older (at least in appearance) man. "Did you know what she had planned for Potter's detention?"

"Even if I did, there would be nothing I could do about it."

"But did you?" England pressed. The old man gave him a sad smile and turned towards the gargoyles on the wall.

"Lemon drops" he said. The doorway opened. He turned towards the nation. "I suppose I'll be seeing you later then, hmm?"

England shook his head. "We can't just ignore this" he said. "Is there nothing you can do?"

"What could I do. Fire her?" Dumbledore shook his head. "The Minister would just bring her right back. For now, we can only sit back and watch."

"That's what I've been doing" sighed England. "I've been watching Potter. I've been watching the Slytherin's. I've been watching any suspicious students from other houses. I've been watching Snape. All this watching is driving me insane."

"Don't waste your time watching Severus" Dumbledore said. "He has my trust."

"Yes" England nodded his head. "Which is why I'll keep watching him for the time being."

Dumbledore let out a small laugh. He nodded goodbye to his friend, before disappearing into his office.

* * *

Hermione, unlike Harry, was having a brilliant day.

Classes, as usual, had gone swell, and now she was curled up in bed, reading the book that Professor Kirkland had allowed her to borrow. And what a brilliant book it was! With ever line she read, she felt herself becoming more and more entranced by it. The pages were old and the only thing keeping them from falling apart was probably some type of spell. She didn't mind. It just made it all the more interesting, knowing that this book was over a century old.

The cover was made out of a type of odd material and felt rough in her hands. The inside of the cover had even been signed by the author himself! It was just a brief message but Hermione had still read it anyway.

_Dear Arthur,_

_Brilliant knowing you. Hope you like the book, this is my original copy. It's the least I can do to repay you for helping me out of my...situation last week._

Oh, the original copy. Professor Kirkland was such a privilaged, lucky, beautiful man...

...privlilaged and lucky. She meant, he was privilaged and lucky.

If Hermione wasn't so completely blinded by her excitement, then she might have realised that there was no way a man, who was only a few years older than herself, could have a message addressed to him that had been written over a century ago.

But, unfortunately for her (and fortunately for the Nation/Professor) she didn't realise.

* * *

"So he really said that to you?" Ron asked, inbetween a mouthful of food. He, along with Harry and Hermione, were seated at the Gryffindor table for dinner that day. Ron was quickly gobbling down the mountain of food he had served for himself, while Hermione reprimanded him for talking with his mouth full.

"Yes" Harry said. "Can you believe it?"

"Um..." Ron frowned. "Are you sure this really happened? I mean" he quickly backtracked at the look Harry gave him. "Of course it _happened _but...did it happen, you know...outside of your dreams?"

"Ron!" Harry said, angrilly. "I do not dream about Professor Kirkland!"

Nearby, Lavender and Parvati paused their conversation to stare at him.

"Well, you know, mate, you kinda talk about the bloke a lot" Ron said, defensively. "Plus, you've been looking for things to prove that there's something wrong with the guy, so..."

"Look, it really happened okay!" Harry said. "He really said that. I mean don't you think its weird?"

"That he told you to stop looking at him?" Ron frowned. "No not really. I mean, maybe he thought you were a stalker."

"Ron!" Hermione said, giving the red-head a stern look.

"Alright, alright" Ron sighed. "Mate, it doesn't matter what he said. The guy's not a creep, he's a great teacher and to hear that coming from me is a big compliment. So can we stop talking about him now?"

Harry's shoulder's slumped. "Yeah" he sighed. "I am going a bit overboard with this, aren't I?"

Ron snorted. "A bit?"

Hermione shoved him with her shoulder.

"So" she said, quickly changing the topic. "How is everything going with school? Keeping up with your studies, I hope?"

"Yes" Harry said, shooting his friend an amused look.

"Geez" Harry looked up. It was the twins. "Umbridge looks like she's about to explode."

"Yeah" Ron said. "Bu then, when doesn't she."

"But she actually looks like she's going to, well..._explode" _Goerge shook his head. "Right here, right now. I wonder who pushed her that far."

She leapt out of her seat, her face full of fury.

"I guess we're about to find out" Hermione murmured.

Umbridge gave Professor Kirkland a long, scathing look. "You!" she spat. "You better start treating me with respect. I work for the _Ministry."_

Professor Kirkland stared at her. "Yes" he said, after a moment. "You do."

Umbridge let out a loud, spluttering sound and stormed out of the Great Hall.

"...Huh" Ron said. "Did I mention how much I like the guy?"

* * *

"You know how I said I was going to 'keep an eye on him'?" America said, sitting up in his chair suddenly.

"What?" Canada blinked owlishly."Who are you talking about?"

"Russia, duh!" America said.

"Oh" Canada sank into his chair. "Right. I forgot."

"Well, I'm going to do just that! I swear, I've seen the guy leave the room at least five times to talk on that phone of his. _Suspiciooooooooooous."_

"We're countries" Canada sighed. "We talk on the phone a lot. It's really not that suspicous."

"I know, right? So _suspiciooooooooooooooous."_

Canada sighed. "I don't know why I try..." he muttered.

"So" America continued. "I'm going to follow him and listen to his side of the conversation and get proof of his plan to start World War III! Then I'm going to tell _everyone _via heroic-little-slide-show and the Commie-Bastard's plan will be exposed! And I'll be the hero!"

"...Please don't" Canada said. "This is going to end badly. I just know it. And then he's going to come after you."

"Awww" America beamed. "Don't be worried about me! Like I said, I'm the hero!"

"I'm not" Canada sighed. "I'm worried about the fact that I look like you."

"Dude, Russia's leaving the room again!" America jumped out of his seat. "I'm going to go follow him! Cover for me, okay?"

Canada looked around the meeting, taking in the ruckus that was going on in the room. Countries chatting, arguing, sexually harassing (in France's case).

"I don't think anyone would notice" he said.

"Great!" America beamed. "I'd tell you to wish me luck but hero's don't need luck!"

He bolted out of the room.

"He's doomed" Canada sighed.

* * *

America exited the room, trying to be as inconspicious as he possibly could. He quietly shut the door behind him and glanced down the empty corridior. Russia was no where in sight but he could hear the sound of the other nation's voice coming from somewhere nearby.

He snuck down the corridor, making sure not to make any noise as he walked. His heart was beating in his chest but not because he was scared (hero's didn't get scared!) but because he was...excited. Yup, he was very excited.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he whirled around, biting back a scream.

"You have been following me" Russia observed.

"W-w-what?" America stuttered. "Are you crazy, why would I be following you; you must be crazy, it's the only explanation!"

Russia smiled. "Da. You have been following me."

* * *

**AN:**

**Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand here's another chapter. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, you are all amazing. **

**:D**


	6. Chapter 6

Canada sat back in his chair and watched the door. He was inwardly shaking his head at his brothers antics; god, why did America always have to go and do crazy things like this? Who in their right mind would follow _Russia?!_

His brother suddenly re-entered the room, his face full of anxiety. Canada leaned forward, his brows drawing up in concern. Just because his brother was an idiot didn't mean he didn't love him.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Russia isn't going to declare war on you for following him, is he?"

"No" America shook his head wildly. "But he is _definitely _planning World War III. There's no doubt about it!"

"Um...did he _tell _you that?" Canada asked. "Oh are you just assuming?"

"Trust me, Mattie" America replied. "I saw his face. It had 'I'm planning World War III and there's nothing you can do to stop me' written all over it."

"Oh god..." Canada shook his head. "Seriously, stop this. Before you seriously screw things up and we _do _end up in another war."

"If I don't look into this and stop Russia the world will pay the price! He's the evil villain and I'm the hero! It makes sense!"

Canada closed his eyes. God, there was no reasoning with his brother, was there?

"We need back up" America continued, his eyes widening and growing more and more comical as he spoke.

"Whoa, whoa, wait" Canada held up a hand to stop him. _"We? _I am _not _getting involved in this!"

"...You know who we need?" America said, as if he hadn't heard his brother speak. "We need England! Where is he anyway? He just randomly disappeared and no ones heard from him since...oh my god. You don't think Russia got him, do you?" His eyes widened with panic.

Canada's shoulders slumped. "Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me...?"

* * *

Another detention with Umbridge.

Harry grit his teeth, struggling to simultaneously block out the sound of Umbridge's sickly-sweet voice and the piercing pain in his hand.

That one line repeated itself of the parchment, over and over again.

_I must not tell lies._

_I must not tell lies._

_I must not tell lies._

He glanced up at Umbridge; she was scribbling on a piece of paper, a pleased smile stretched across her face. Harry felt his face grow hot with anger; the woman was one of the most sadistic bitches he had ever met in his life.

"I hope you're learning your lesson" she said, lifting up her head and smiling at him. "It's the entire point of these detentions, you know. You need to learn how to treat figures of authority with the respect they deserve."

_'You don't deserve any respect' _Harry thought, though he didn't dare to say this out loud.

Umbridge stood up and wondered over. She glanced over his shoulder, taking in the words written on the page and the droplets of blood scattered across it.

"I think that's enough for today" she said, putting her hand on his arm. "You may leave."

A seering pain flashed through his head, situated in the area where his scar was. Harry let out a yelp. Umbridge raised one eyebrow.

"Something to say, Mr. Potter?" she asked. Harry shook his head, trying to hide his alarm.

"No" he said. "I'll...I'll be going now."

He hurriedly stood up and made his way to the door.

"Mr. Potter?" Umbridge called after him. Harry turned around. "If there's something wrong...you know you can talk to me. That's why I'm hear."

Harry resisted the urge to shudder and simply turned his back from her, not wanting to look at that sadistic pleasure in her eyes any longer. He left the room.

* * *

When Harry told Hermione and Ron what happened, both were alarmed.

"Merlin" breathed Ron, apprehention filling his voice. "You don't think it's like Quirrel, do you?"

"I hope not" Harry said, shaking his head. "That would be horrible."

"Oh Harry" Hermione shook her head. "You need to tell Dumbledore about this!"

"Why would I tell _Dumbledore?" _Harry demanded. "He's never bothered enough to tell me anything; why should I tell him about this?"

"Harry!" Hermione said, disapprovingly. "It's for your own good! Don't put yourself at risk, just because your angry at Dumbledore -"

"It's not that, Hermione!" Harry cried, cutting her off. "Look, if it happens again, I'll tell him alright? But...for now, maybe I'll just speak to Sirius about it. I'll send him a letter through Hedwig -"

"Oh don't do that!" Hermione looked alarmed. "Remember what Moody told us while we were staying at the Headquarters? About the Owls being intercepted?"

"I'll be careful" Harry promised her. "I just need to tell him some stuff...not just about Umbridge but also about Professor Kirkland -"

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, her voice filled with exasperation. "Not this again!"

"Look, I'll probably feel better about the guy if I hear Sirius' opnion, alright?" Harry said, a hint of annoyance slipping into his tone.

_"Harry -"_

"Oh, alright!" Harry flung his arms into the air. "I won't tell him then!"

Hermione and Ron shared a look.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"Uh..." Ron looked for a good topic to talk about; then his face lit up. "Hey, mate, did I tell you that I'm the new Gryffindor Keeper?"

Harry stared at him, wondering when Ron had decided to try out for the position of Keeper. Ron saw his look, and his smile faded.

"I told you the other day, in the corridor, remember?" he said, bitterly. "I guess with all this Umbridge and Kirkland stuff, you must have forgotten." In a lower voice, he added. _"Especially _the Kirkland stuff."

Harry felt guilt rolling in his stomach. "Ron" he said. "That's great, I knew you could do it -"

"Yeah" Ron said, without enthusiasm. "Listen, I'm going to do to bed, alright?"

He turned away and walked away. Hermione shot Harry a long, approaching look; Harry looked away, feeling guilt knawing through him and the weight of the Umbridge situation - and everything else - weighing down upon him.

* * *

Snape knew he was in trouble as soon as he felt the sharp, burning pain in his arm that signalled that the Dark Lord was requesting his presence.

As he always did when this happened, he hurriedly left the Hogwarts grounds and apparated to the Dark Lord's headquarters. He felt apprehention coursing through him; he'd heard no mention of a meeting taking place anytime soon, so what was the reason for the summoning?

Voldemort's face was completely blank when Snape reached him. His malificient red eyes boared through him, and Snape had to force himself not to look away.

"Why" Voldemort snarled", his expression suddenly changing to one of anger. "Was I not informed about the new Professor at Hogwarts?"

"Are you talking about Arthur Kirkland?" Snape questioned. "Or Dolorus Umbridge?"

"You know who I am talking about" Voldemort hissed. "Why was I not told about Kirkland by _you? _You are my spy within Hogwarts - so why was it Lucius who, through his sons letters, found out and informed me...and not you?"

"My apologies, Master" Snape said, bowing his head. "I didn't know it was necessary."

Snape knew it was coming before it actually occurred; however he still couldn't ready himself for that familiar cry of _"Cruicio!" _and that agonizing pain that followed soon after.

Once it was over, the Potions Master lay on the floor, breathing heavily. Voldemort stared down at him, eyeing him with disgust.

"You do not withhold information from me!" he spat. "Useless fool..."

"I am sorry, Master" Snape repeated his apology, struggling to overcome the burning pain in his veins. "Forgive me."

"Fool" spat Voldemort. He glowered at Snape for a moment. "You will bring him to me!"

Snape swallowed, forcing his expression to stay neutral so as not to give away the unease he was feeling. "You want me to bring Kirkland to you...Master?"

"That is what I said!" snapped Voldemort. "This new Professor appears out of the blue at Hogwarts...no one has ever heard of him before; he holds no ties in the Wizarding World. And yet Dumbledore trusts him enough to teach those useless brats of his. I want to...meet this man."

Snape swallowed heavily; he knew exactly what Voldemort meant by 'meet.'

"I will bring him in, Master" Snape promised. After all, what else could he say? Voldemort dismissed him and, as he walked out, he wondered how the hell he was going to give the Dark Lord what he wanted. It wasn't as if he could just hand Kirkland over to him on a silver platter.

* * *

When he asked Dumbledore what to do, the elderly Wizard's response shocked him.

"Why, just do the obvious thing" he replied, stroking his silvery beard and smiling, as his blue eyes twinkled in that annoying way.

"And what's that?" Snape asked, his voice filled with exasperation.

"Take him to Voldemort."

* * *

**AN:**

**Please review and tell me what you think. I'm not sure if I managed Voldemort's part well; I've always been terrible at writing him. I did try though, and some feedback on how I could improve on his character in the future would be great.**

**There will be more of England's character in the next chapter...and also, for those of you who asked if America would be coming to Hogwarts, the answer if yes. I'm not sure when though.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favourited my story. You guys are all amazing :D**


	7. Chapter 7

"So I spoke to England's boss" Canada listened to his brothers voice over the phone. His glanced around the hotel room he was in; he couldn't wait for the World Conference meetings to be over so that he could go back to his cosy home in Canada and forget about all the insanity that his twin brother brought with him.

"Yeah?" Canada muttered. "How did that go for you?"

"Great!" America said, cheerfully. "It turns out that Russia didn't find and kill him. His boss said; "He told me that he's going to be teaching at some school for the rest of the year. And do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"HOGWARTS!" Canada held the phone away from his ear, wincing at the loud volume.

"Hogwarts?" his brow furrowed. "You mean that magic school that England took us to when we were kids?"

"Yuuuuuup!" America said. "Whenever he goes to 'teach' at 'some school' its _always _Hogwarts. This is just brilliant - I still have a few howlers left from that batch France got me for my birthday!"

Canada's eyes widened. "You _can't _send England a howler!" he cried. "He'll _kill _you!"

"Not if Russia kills him first" America replied. "Which is why I really need to get in contact with him - to tell him about the upcoming war."

"There is no upcoming war!" Canada cried.

America 'tsked' on the phone. "Still in denial? I'm ashamed of you Mattie."

"But there _isn't -"_

"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that incase you were wondering. Also, do you have a message you want to pass along to England?"

"No" Canada said, exasperation creeping through him. "I don't. But Alfred -"

The phone was promptly hung up.

...

"I'm sorry" Snape gritted his teeth as Kirkland's annoying voice filled his ears. _"Why _did you say Dumbledore asked you to take me off school grounds?"

"To collect potion supplies for the school" Snape replied, trying to keep his cool.

"...So why exactly do I, the History of Magic Professor, need to come along?" Kirkland asked, in that annoying know-it-all voice of his that reminded Snape of Hermione Granger every time he heard it. It was enough to make him want to throttle the man.

"Because" Snape gritted out. "You are an idiot who knows nothing about anything that matters in the world."

Kirkland stared at him.

"...So" the younger (at least in Snape's mind) professor said, after a moment. "Potion supplies, huh?"

"Yes" Snape stared at him, coldly.

"Well then..." Kirkland glanced up at him. "Let's go visit Voldemort then."

Snape's eyes flew open and his mind went momentarily blank, most of his perfect composure vanishing.

_'That's impossible!' _Snape thought. _'How on Earth could he know?!'_

Kirkland reached out to grasp his arm; and then, next thing he knew, the two of them had left the previous position and were apparating to...to...

...to the Dark Lords lair.

What little amount of his former composure he had left went flying out the window.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW OF THIS PLACE?!" Snape howled. "HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW THE LOCATION OF THE DARK LORDS LAIR? EVEN _I_ DO NOT KNOW IT!"

"Are you going to take me to him or not?" Kirkland asked, sounding bored.

"THERE IS NO EXPLANATION FOR THIS!" Snape howled.

"Severus!" called out a familar voice; Snape stopped screaming, his eyes growing wide with alarm. Oh Sweet Merlin, that was the Dark Lord. Snape glanced with panic between Kirkland and the direction of where the voice had come from. What was he supposed to do?

Kirkland seemed to have made the decision for him; without even glancing in his direction, the other man began walking towards the voice. Snape quickly caught up with him.

"I don't know how you know of this place" he snarled. "You aren't a Death Eater...even if you were, you wouldn't be able to apparate here without the use of a Dark Mark. The Dark Lord would never tell the location of this place to anyone..."

"I'm not an idiot you know" Kirkland said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, Dumbledore told me."

Snape's eyes flew open. "What?" he demanded. "The location?" How on earth had the old man known?

"No" Kirkland replied. "That you were planning on bringing me here...don't look so alarmed though, I know you're a spy."

Snape's face flushed. "Don't say that here!" he snarled.

"As for the location..." Kirkland gazed at him thoughtfully and then smirked. Annoying git. "I thought it was common knowledge."

"SEVERUS!" The Dark Lord screamed. Oh Merlin...he was going to get crucio'd for sure...

The two Professors walked through a set of doors that led to the Dark Lord's chambers. Snape glanced at him, wondering how Kirkland could look so confident and calm in a situation like this.

Kirkland seemed to understand his look because soon after he said; "I deal with that annoying Yank and that perverted Frog on a daily basis. This is nothing."

Snape had no idea what that meant and he wasn't sure he wanted to know...not if Kirkland thought these people were worse than the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord sat on his throne-like-chair, gazing down at the two with a blank face. A menacing look sparkled in his eyes, making Snape shudder.

"My Lord" he said, bowing. Beside him, Kirkland snorted, making Snape grit his teeth.

"And...I see you have brought me a guest" Voldemort leaned close, studying Kirkland with interest.

"Bloody hell" Kirkland muttered. "Not another bloody pervert."

Snape glanced at him with disbelief.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair. He turned his attention away from Kirkland and settled his gaze on Snape.

"Severus" he said, his voice cold. "You certainly took your time to get here, didn't you?"

"I am sorry, my Lord" Snape apologized. "Kirkland was...difficult."

Voldemort stared at him; then he pointed his wand at him. "Crucio" he said, calmly.

Snape screamed.

"My God" Kirkland murmured, shaking his head. "You certainly don't offer second chances, do you?"

Voldemort's cold red eyes snapped up towards him. He stared at him for a moment.

"Dumbledore values you" he noted. "He trusts you...and yet I find you to be completely annoying. So this will make me happy...and it will annoy the old fool. Perfect."

Snape pulled himself up just in time to hear Voldemort's cry of "Avada Kedavra!" and see that familiar green light hit Kirkland square on the chest.

And then the man who had been nearing the top of his people-to-hate-list since he had entered the school...toppled to the floor, dead.

...

**AN:**

**So...England's dead.**

**But don't worry (and don't kill me xD) because he's England...and that makes him way better than Voldemort and his dumb killing curse xD**

**Hope this chapter was alright. Thanks to everyone who reviewed :D**


	8. Chapter 8

"I can't believe" Canada whispered, shaking his head. "That you actually went and sent England a howler. He is going to kill you. He is going to pound you with the blunt end of an axe, slice you up, tear out your organs -"

"- We've been through this, Mattie" America cut him off. "He can't do any of that stuff if Russia does it to him first."

"Russia's not going to do that to him!" snapped Canada. He paused, rethinking his words. "Okay, he might" he backtracked. "But if he does, I highly doubt it'd be because of World War III...at least at this moment."

"...Yeah it doesn't make sense does it" America said, shaking his head. "Why would he use the blunt end of an axe, when he has his pole?"

"AMERICA!"

America stared at his brother. "...Did you say something, Mattie?"

Canada sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Please, at least tell me this...did you try to be subtle?"

"Oh course!" America leapt up, beaming widely. "I'm the king of subtle! Subtle would totally be my middle name if I wasn't already stuck with that annoying 'F.' Besides, I know there's going to be tones of teachers around...trust me, I was real good about it. Subtle yet smooth. England will understand completely.

...

"Ron!"

Ron didn't turn around; with a glum scowl on his face, he continued to walk forward.

"Ron!"

Harry eventually managed to catch up to his friend, panting heavily. Ron glanced at him and his expression didn't change,

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Ron, look, we need to talk" Harry said, reaching out to stop his friend from walking forward. Ron stared at him for a moment and then rolled his eyes.

"Let me guess" he said. "Is it about Professor Kirkland?"

"No" Harry sighed. "Ron -"

"Wow" Ron laughed. "That's shocking because lately, the blokes all you seem to talk about!"

Harry opened his mouth to reply but then shut it, frowning. "...That sounds like something you'd say to Hermione."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I know."

There was an awkward pause. Harry sighed.

"I...have been pretty bad, haven't I?" Harry said, apologetically. "It's just...I'm so used to teacher's being the bad guys. Quirrel, Lockhart, Moody...I just expected Professor Kirkland to be the same."

"The guy hasn't really done anything to seem suspicious" Ron pointed out.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

Ron stared at the floor for a moment. "Though if you want to obsess over him, I guess its not really my place to butt in."

"No, no" Harry shook his head. "You were right. I went to far. And also...I'm sorry about yesterday. Ron, your my best mate and that Quiddich thing was a big deal to you. I shouldn't have forgotten."

Ron went pink. "It's alright" he said, hurriedly. "I made a big deal of it, it was nothing -"

"It _was _something" Harry said firmly. "And I'm really proud of you, mate."

Ron, still looking embarrassed, smiled slightly.

"I promise I'll stop talking about Professor Kirkland" Harry said. "From now on, the only time I'll even mention him is if I have to address him personally."

"You don't have to do that" Ron said, shaking his head.

"Trust me, mate" Harry walked forward and slung an arm around Ron's shoulder. "For my sanity, I do."

...

England stumbled back to Hogwarts, curses flying out of his mouth.

He'd woken up about half an hour ago with a pounding head, a sore chest and the urge to start screaming filth at the nearest person in sight.

Since then he'd staggered away from where he'd been lying on a patch of cold, damp, muddy earth and still hadn't reached his destination.

Really, the headache and slight pain wasn't too much of a bother for him. The damaged clothes were a bit annoying but even so, he didn't mind too much. He was more upset over the fact that he hadn't been given the chance to show that useless excuse for a Dark Lord how amazing he really was.

He'd had it all planned really - ever since Dumbledore had told him about it the previous day. He'd decided on a few quirky quips and he'd imagined up a variety of scenarios in which Voldemort shot dangerous spells at him, and he just stood there, laughing -

Of course none of these scenarios had involved the killing curse.

It wasn't like it could actually kill him (that was evident) but it _had _left him...not quite alive...for a while. He was just thankful that Voldemort hadn't taken the time to bury him.

That would have _really _put him in a bad mood.

...

All day, Snape had been avoiding Dumbledore.

He hadn't originally planned to. When Voldemort had dismissed him and he'd apparated back to Hogwarts, he'd fully intended to tell Dumbledore that Kirkland was dead. But then he hadn't been able to find the Headmaster and, after a while, he had lost his nerve.

So now, he was making his way to the Great Hall for dinner with a guilty conciseness and that annoying feeling that people always referred to as "butterfly's in your stomach."

Snape shouldn't have been feeling guilty. Voldemort had killed Kirkland and Dumbledore had told Snape to take Kirkland to Voldemort in the first place. Really, Snape had only been the messenger. He hadn't done anything wrong, other than walk a man to his death.

...He was going to stop thinking now.

Snape reached the Great Hall and, with a deep breath, entered through the doors. He half expected to be accosted as soon as he walked in by an angry Headmaster; this was ridiculous as he knew that, even if Dumbledore was furious, he would probably still be sitting in his seat, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Snape kept his eyes down as he walked to the table, trying to ignore the feeling that everyone was watching him. Of course, no one was. It was just more of Snape's guilty consciousness playing games to make him insane.

Snape reached the table and sat down. He didn't greet anyone and no one greeted him; this was not unusual.

Then someone greeted him.

"Hello Severus."

Snape glanced up, feeling his chest seize with horror. No...there was no way...

Kirkland sat in his chair, smiling pleasantly at him.

Snape felt like all the air had been punched out of him. His mouth opened and closed like a fish; he felt his eyes grow wider and wider as seconds went by.

"Are you alright?" Kirkland asked, raising one of his inhumanly large eyebrows. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Snape leapt from his chair, breathing hard.

"It's impossible..." he snarled. "It's impossible!"

"Severus?" McGonagall frowned. "What in Merlin's name is the matter with you?"

"HOW ARE YOU HERE?!" Snape screamed. "WHY AREN'T YOU DEAD? HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE HERE?!"

And then - naturally with horrible timing - an owl flew in and dropped a red envelop in front of Kirkland.

A howler.

The smile faded of the Professor's face and his eyes widened in alarm. Hesitantly, he opened it up, a look of dread on his face.

"ENGLAND!" screamed an American accent. "BEWARE OF RUSSIA! WORLD WAR III IS COMING!"

Snape, unable to take it anymore, screamed one last time and ran from the hall.

...

England had been fully prepared to enjoy a feeling of superiority as he watched Snape's reaction.

Now all he could do was stare at the smoking piece of paper in front of him, breathing heavily, as the rest of the hall looked on in confusion.

America was going to regret ever being born.


	9. Chapter 9

As the days passed by since that strange event in the Great Hall, the students of Hogwarts all seemed to pick up on Snape's strange behaviour. He seemed more jumpy than usual, his eyes always twitching from side to side, almost as if he expected something to jump out of the shadows.

His attitude towards Professor Kirkland had also seemed to change...although not in a good way. While previously, he had taken every and any opportunity to mock the man and throw jabs at him, now he seemed to go out of his way to avoid him. If he spotted the other man in the corridor, he would quickly turn and go the other way...and there was something wrong with the way he looked at him.

It was almost as if he was afraid of him...but that was ridiculous. Right?

Harry watched this occur, yet again, and shook his head. He never thought he'd see the day that Professor Snape would be afraid of something, let alone another human being (other than Voldemort that was...but the Dark Lord didn't really count as a 'human being'). He wasn't being paranoid either; almost everyone had noticed it, many whispering about it behind Snape and Kirkland's back.

"Remember how Snape was in the hall, that day?" Ron said, as he, Harry and Hermione headed to History of Magic. "He was just _screaming. _I wish I could'a heard exactly what he'd been yelling about - everyone was talking so loud though, it was hard to hear."

"I thought I heard something about someone being dead" Hermione murmured. "But that's just ridiculous."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, looking disturbed.

"Somebody, dead?" Harry frowned.

"I'm sure it's nothing" Hermione shook her head.

Ron snorted. "Tell that to Snape."

Hermione sighed. "I don't even know if I heard it" she said. "I'm probably just assuming...it's probably nothing."

The trio exchanged glances and then headed to their class.

...

Snape sat in his chair, trembling.

He wasn't an idiot. He knew that the students and teachers had noticed his odd behaviour and he knew that they talked about him behind his back.

He also knew that Kirkland had probably noticed it.

The thought made Snape feel incredibly uncomfortable. He didn't want that man knowing anything about him. He didn't even want to be a passing thought in his head. The man wasn't normal; there was something seriously wrong with him, and Snape wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was.

Snape glanced at the penseive resting on the table next to him, allowing his eyes to roam over it. That small object was home to years and years worth of his most important memories; the ones he cherished and the ones he dreaded.

Kirkland's death now rested amongst them.

Snape hadn't been able to get it off his mind...and whenever he had an annoying little memory like that he'd dump it off in his penseive. It helped him clear his mind...or at least it had in the past. It didn't seem to be helping much this time around.

How could a man just die and come back to life, just like that? It wasn't possible. There was no rational explanation for it. Snape had seen, with his very own eyes, the green light of the killing curse slamming into the mans chest. He'd seen Kirkland topple to the ground dead; for Merlin's sake, he'd carried the mans dead body and dumped it off on a cold, muddy patch of earth a few kilometers away from the Dark Lord's lair.

So how could the man still be alive?

It made no sense. No sense at all.

Shooting another uncomfortable glance at the penseive, he stood up and left his office, shutting his door behind him. He paused for a moment and then made sure to bolt the door shut.

...

Class had been uneventful. Professor Kirkland had warned them about an upcoming test and then it had been mostly revision for that.

That had been the trio's last class for the day and Harry, Hermione and Ron now sat in the Common Room, Harry and Ron discussing Quiddich, and Hermione reading a thick book.

"Oh my" she suddenly exclaimed, interrupting the boy's conversation.

"What?" Ron asked, shooting her an odd glance.

"Hmm?" Hermione glanced up. "Oh, nothing - it's just, this book is so interesting. Professor Kirkland lent it to me a while back...I really must return it soon but it's just so interesting! I just had to re-read it -"

_"Re-read it?" _Ron repeated, his mouth hanging open. "Are you out of your mind?! Look at the size of that thing!"

"I _like _it" Hermione replied, firmly. "It's a very interesting book, filled with history. You should take a flick through it when I'm done."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure" he said, sarcastically.

Harry glanced at the book, curiously. "Is it actually any good?" he asked.

"Oh come _on _Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't tell me you actually want to read it?!"

"Oh Harry, you really should!" Hermione beamed. "It's quite interesting - look I'll read you a passage -"

She flicked through the book quickly, while Ron let out a loud moan. Suddenly her forehead creased with a frown and she glanced at the book with a disbelieving stare.

"What?" Harry asked, glancing at her with curiosity.

"Hmm?" Hermione glanced up, shaking her head. "Nothing...it's just this message...apparently written by the author. I just never realized how strange it really was..."

"What's it about?" Ron asked, curious despite himself.

"Well, it's not content of the note that's odd" Hermione replied. "But it's been addressed to Professor Kirkland..."

"So?" Harry raised one eyebrow. "The Professor knew the author. What's so strange about that?"

"Well" Hermione shut the book, shaking her head in confusion. "The fact that this book is a little over a century old makes that well...impossible."

Harry and Ron exchanged wide eyed looks.

"So your saying that Kirkland has a note written to him from a dead guy?!" Ron exclaimed, sounding stunned.

"No, of course not!" Hermione laughed. "Don't be silly...it must be a joke or something. What other explanation could there be for it?"

Harry leaned forward. "Can I take a look at it?"

Hermione passed him the book and Harry allowed his eyes to flicker over he message.

_Dear Arthur,_

_Brilliant knowing you. Hope you like the book, this is my original copy. It's the least I can do to repay you for helping me out of my...situation last week._

It was a perfectly normal message; not at all something you would find odd. But like Hermione said, the only way this message could possibly be genuine was if it had been written by a dead man.

Harry passed the book back to Hermione.

"It's probably a joke" he said, agreeing with her previous statement. There was a part of him (the part that had noticed something wrong with the Professor from the very first day) that was screaming out that there was more to the note than just that; that there was more to the Professor than they thought.

Harry had promised Ron though, that he was going to stop his admittedly obsessive behaviour, and he wasn't going to turn back on that promise...not just for his friends sake, but also his own.

"Weird joke" Ron noted, before changing the topic back to the previous one of Quiddich.

And so, for once in their lives at Hogwarts, the Golden Trio ignored a potential mystery...and the strange professor was able to keep his secret for the time being.

Only for the time being, of course...because at Hogwarts no secret was safe.

...

**AN:**

**I just want to thank you all for your reviews.**

**You don't know how amazing it is to read your comments and your opinions and to know what you think of my story. I just want you guys to know how much I truly appreciate it when you do.**

**I'm having a great time writing this fic. I hope you guys continue to enjoy this as the story continues.**

**Love you guys heaps! **


	10. Chapter 10

England knew, as soon as he found out that Umbridge had been made Hogwarts new High Inquisitor, that it was either him or her.

Unfortunately, killing her would ruin his plans of helping out in the war...so he had to lean back and just pray that he'd be out of Hogwarts before she brought fourth his demise (dramatic yes - but then again, it was Umbridge, so anything went).

England tried to remind himself of this as the woman's sickly voice filled his ears. She was assessing his class; _his _class. Who the bloody hell did she think she was? What did she think he was teaching the students about - the joys of porn?!

"So...it was Dumbledore who hired you, wasn't it?" Umbridge questioned, scribbling something on her notebook. England forced a smile onto his face and nodded his head.

"Yes. It was."

"Hmm...and why is that?"

"What?" _'Think happy thoughts England...think happy thoughts...'_

"Why did Dumbledore hire you?" she asked. "How did he come to know about you?"

"Albus and I are old friends" England replied, stiffly. "He needed a professor to take over the posission of History of Magic, and I agreed."

"So...Dumbledore was obviously being unfair to the other candidates, hmm?" Umbridge murmured.

"I'm sorry?" England's jaw clenched.

"Well, if you two were friends, obviously he would have favoured you..."

"As far as I know" England replied, slowly. "I was the only 'candidate.' So no, I don't think Albus was being biased in any way."

"Hmm..." Umbridge scribbled something down on her notepad.

"May I begin now?" England demanded. "After all, I have a lesson to teach."

"Do you now?" Umbridge murmured. She scribbled something on her notepad. England closed his eyes, sighing out loud.

"How could that have _possibly _have held any substantial meaning to what you are inquiring about?" he demanded.

"No reason" Umbridge smiled at him. "Why don't you start the lesson now, hmm?"

"I will" England replied, eyeing her notepad with distaste. He turned to the class. "Good morning everyone, it is good to see you are all well -"

"- Assumptions, assumptions" Umbridge tutted.

England's eye twitched.

"I'm sorry?" he ground out.

"Well" Umbridge drawled, eyeing England with a gleeful spark in her eyes; England mentally shook his head. The woman could have at least attempted to hide the fact that she was enjoying this. "How do you know that everyone is well? Somebody could be dreadfully ill...it's those type of assumptions that could endanger the health and wellbeing of a student."

"...You're joking" England's jaw dropped open slightly.

Umbridge smiled. "I never joke about the safety of my students."

England jerkily turned to face the class and forced a pleasant smile onto his face. "Well then class" he said, as pleasantly as he could manage. "How is everyone? Not dreadfully ill or in danger of dying, I hope?"

No one answered.

"I'll take your silence as a 'no'" England said. He turned to Umbridge. "Is that alright? Or am I assuming to much?"

Umbridge waved a hand. "Carry on."

"Yes, well" England turned to face the class. "Today we will be starting a new topic..."

"And how long did you spend on the last one?" Umbridge cut him off.

England twitched. "Am I even going to be able to start this lesson?" he muttered.

"Well?" Umbridge asked, sounding impatient. She scribbled something down on her notebook; England found himself wondering if she was actually writing down anything, or if she was simply doodling on the paper in an attempt to get under his skin. It wouldn't surprise him if she was.

"We just finished the topic" England replied. "The class has been studying it since the year began -"

"Um, excuse me?" England turned to face the students; he wasn't too surprised to see that it was Hermione Granger who had spoken.

"What?" Umbridge asked; England was pleased to her a slight note of irritation in her voice.

"Well...Professor Kirkland's lessons have been quite interesting, in my opinion" the girl said. "I've learned an amazing amount from his classes, and I've found all of them to be interesting..."

Murmurs of agreement travelled around the room.

"That's lovely dear" Umbridge smiled falsely.

"And -"

" - Now be quiet" Umbridge cut her off and turned to England. "So" she said, in that sickly-sweet voice of hers. "Will you be starting the lesson or not?"

"That's what I've been trying to do" England said, with forced calm.

Umbridge raised an eyebrow. "Well talking to me isn't going to help these students...why don't you start making yourself useful, hmmm?"

"Class" England said, trying to hide his irritation; he was aware that he was probably failing horribly. "Today we will be learning about -" he twitched as the scratching sound of Umbridge's pen met his ears. He turned to face her, his jaw clenched. "Do you think you could write any quieter?"

"...slight mental instability" Umbridge murmured, narrating the words she wrote on the page.

"Pot calling the kettle black" England muttered.

"Class" he continued, hoping he could actually get the words out this time around. "Today I will be giving you a brief history on the magic of other cultures -"

"Why is that?" Umbridge asked. "What could they possibly gain by learning about foreign nonsense?"

England chose to ignore her.

"I thought we could begin with..."

"...France" Umbridge said.

"What?" England glanced at her, uncomprehendingly.

"Well" Umbridge replied. "If you're going to teach the children about this foreign nonsense, at least focus on a country with a large magical population."

"I think you'll find that almost every country has a bit of magic in it" England replied. _'Dammit...why won't this BITCH just shut up...?'_

"You'll be starting with France."

England wasn't even bothering to hide his frustrations anymore; the students could all see this. Some exchanged uneasy glances; most looked anticipant at the thought of an explosion from the professor.

"The French" England snapped. "Are all bloody perverts. Next country - Finland."

"I'm sorry" Umbridge looked furious. "That is quite an insulting thing to say...what if there was a French person in this class?"

"Then I worry for the safety of the school!" England shot back. "Now can I continue with my lesson?"

"Unsatisfactory" Umbridge said, as she wrote the word down in her book. She glanced up at England and scowled slightly.

"I'll be taking my leave now" she said. "Expect to hear from me."

She walked out of the room.

"Thank bloody God" England groaned, his shoulders slumping. He glanced up at the class; they all stared at him with wide eyes. "...None of you are French, are you?"

...

America had been keeping an eye on Russia whenever he could.

The other Nation spent a lot of time on his phone nowerdays (none of the other Nations had commented on it though; it was almost as if they didn't find anything wrong with it...odd). America kept this fact carefully stored in his mental collection of notes labeled: "Russia and World War III."

Russia lifted his head to look at him and America quickly ducked his head down. He needed to be as discreet as possible; after Russia had caught him stalking him that one time, he couldn't risk something like that happening again. So far, things had been going well...

"America" America mentally cursed as Russia's voice met his ears. "If you have something to say to me, you will tell it to my face, da?"

"What are you talking about?" America laughed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I don't have anything to say to you...why would I have anything to say to you? That's ridiculous...I mean, it's not like your doing anything suspicious that would require me to talk to you. Of course not...so why would I want to talk to you?"

"...Idiot" muttered a nearby Nation.

Russia sighed, shaking his head. "You are pitiful, really" he told America. "Do you not think I have noticed you always staring at me? I've been paying very close attention to you, after I caught you following me..."

"I wasn't following you! I'm not a stalker!" America cried, defensively.

Russia stared at him. "Da. You are a stalker."

"Am not." America crossed his arms, scowling petulantly.

Russia sighed, shaking his head. "You will come outside and talk to me now" he told America, calmly.

"What?" America's eyes widened in alarm and he shook his head rapidly. "No!"

"Da, you will" Russia said, and his hand twitched towards his pipe. America swallowed and let out a nervous laugh.

"Hey you didn't let me finish! I was going to say no _way _thats just too awesome!"

Russia smiled.

Trying not to tremble (because hero's didn't show fear!) America walked out of the room, Russia following close behind.

"So" Russia said, once he had closed the doors behind him. "What is the matter, hmm?"

America stared at him, eyes wide. He tried to think about a good story...one he could tell Russia that would sound convincing, and would make the larger Nation think that America had no clue about his evil plans...

...Russia lifted his pipe ever so slightly.

The words came pouring out of America's mouth.

"I know what your planning! You're going to drag the world into another World War! Well I won't let it happen, because I'm the hero and hero's don't let stuff like that happen and..._don't kill me with your pipe!"_

Russia stared at him.

"...You don't scare me" America added, hastily.

"America" Russia sighed. "Why do you think I am planning on starting World War III?"

America stared at him. "Uh...well...you're on the phone a lot."

Russia nodded his head. "Go on."

"Uhh..." America scratched the back of his head, his eyes travelling awkwardly around the room. "You, ahh...mention the word 'attack' a lot...not that I've been listening in on your conversations or anything!"

Russia continued to watch him for a moment. "Yes" he said, after a moment. "And is that all you have?"

America shrugged. "It's enough to know that you're an evil, communist bastard."

"...There have been random attacks in my country" Russia said, finally.

"What?" America blinked, taken aback by the response.

"Yes" Russia nodded his head. "A small town was attacked first...then my capital."

America shook his head. "No way...if your capital was attacked, we would have heard about it."

Russia shrugged his shoulders. "Da, you would have" he agreed. "But the attacks have been very strange...my boss wished to keep them a secret because of this. There is no explanation for them..."

"...Because you made them up!" America said, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Russia shrugged again. "No, I did not" he replied. "According to the survivors from the first attack, a group of figures in black cloaks appeared and started shooting green lights out of sticks...you can understand why it was hard to believe them. But then there were similar claims after the second attack."

"Green lights out of sticks..." America's brow furrowed. "Sounds like magic."

"Magic?" Russia raised an eyebrow in slight amusement.

"Yeah" America's brow furrowed. "What, do you guys not have magic in Russia or something?"

"We do" Russia said. "But our magical community is very small...it is why I didn't even consider it as a possibility..."

"It probably isn't though" America said. "Because, knowing you, you're probably making it up."

Russia stared at him. "Why would I?" he asked, calmly. "You can verify this with my boss, if you like..."

America snorted. "You're boss is probably a liar too."

Russia continued, as if America hadn't even spoken. "...But you will not, because I will not let you. You are annoying."

"Ha!" America lifted his arm in triumph. "The hero has won, once again! I have revealed you, you evil fiend!"

Russia smiled, pleasantly. "Is that so?"

"Well, yeah!" America nodded his head rapidly. "Why else would you not want me to talk to your boss about it?!"

"...I thought I told you why; because you are annoying."

"Oh please" America snorted. "Like anyone would find the hero annoying...you're definitely hiding something! And I'll come to the bottom of it!"

Russia nodded his head. "Da."

"Oh don't 'da' me" America snorted. "You don't think I can do it? Just you wait! Soon, everyone will be watching an awesome, heroic-little-slideshow that will reveal your sinister plans!"

Russia cocked his head to the side. Then, smiling pleasantly, he walked back into the room.

America clenched his hands at his side...dammit, that Commie-Bastard was just too annoying! Well he would show him...

...With these thoughts on his mind, America smiled and walked back into the room, this time not even trying to be discreet with the long stare he shot Russia as he walked back to his seat.

"You're not dead" Canada said, sounding surprised.

America leapt in the air, yelping loudly. "When the hell did you get here?!" he demanded, trying to calm his racing heart.

Canada sighed, slumping back into his seat.


	11. Chapter 11

Life went on as normal.

With all World Conferences over for the time being, America spent his days sleeping in, eating hamburgers, watching horror movies and then crying on the phone about them to Japan and Canada, eating more hamburgers, and keeping tabs on Russia.

Of course his boss had found out about this and had blown a gasket. Something about not wanting to start another Cold War...America hadn't really been listening. Finally his boss had ordered him to send a gift to Russia, what with Christmas coming round the corner and all.

America complied, without much of a fuss. After all, this presented the perfect opportunity to get that little spy camera into Russia's house. Hopefully the other Nation didn't search the presents he received thoroughly.

America had been considering the best place to hide the camera, when he'd heard about the attack.

"...It was the most horrific thing I've ever seen; it makes no sense..."

America glanced up at his television, which had been turned onto the News channel. He stared at the screen, the words being spoken piping at interest for him.

There was a trembling woman on the screen, her eyes wide and her hair resembling a birds nest.

"These people, they just came out of nowhere. They started shooting green lights at us...oh god, people were just dropping to the ground, dead..."

America's mind immediately blanked out all of his previous thoughts about stalking Russia, and focused his full attention on the words coming out of the woman's mouth. _Green lights?_

Russia's words filled his mind.

"There were so many of us in the area at the time" the woman was replaced by a young man, who appeared to be in his twenties. "They killed so many..."

America bit his lip, his mind whirling. What the _hell _had happened?

"When they first came, no one really cared. I mean, they looked fucking strange but who the hell cares, right? I mean, this is _New York. _But then they pulled out these sticks, and started yelling these strange words...and these green lights started flashing all over the place, and people were just dying everywhere..."

America leapt from the ground and hurried to his computer. He fumbled with the 'on' switch and waited impatiently while it loaded up.

Once it had, he immediately opened up at internet page and went to check the news. Information about the attack had been displayed across the page and America allowed his eyes to scan over it, trying to make sense of what had happened.

There had been an attack in New York, on a busy street. Survivors claimed that people dressed in black cloaks and wearing skull masks had entered the area, and had soon after began to shoot out green lights from sticks. The green lights had killed people upon touch.

It was almost identical to what Russia had told him about the attacks in his country. America shook his head in disbelief; did this mean the other Nation had been telling the truth all along?

For some reason the word's 'skull masks' struck a chord in his mind. He struggled to remember what was significant about them; he was certain that Russia hadn't mentioned anything about it in their conversation.

A moment later he remembered a conversation he had once shared with England, a few years back. England had been complaining about a group of people...Death Eaters. Yes, that was it. The other Nation had been ranting on about the mess that they were causing, taking about how many people they had killed; about how they and their Master needed to be stopped...

America looked back to the screen, re-reading the news report. Was it possible that they could be responsible for this? It certainly sounded like magic, there was no doubt about that...but why would a bunch of English wizards be attacking _his _country?

He shook his head, wishing that he'd paid more attention to England's rant.

He sighed in frustration. Maybe it wasn't them...but how many groups of wizards could there be, that ran around wearing skull masks?!

America stood up and walked over to his phone. As much as he didn't want to do this...he needed to know more about the attack. Confirming that it was the same group that had been responsible for the attacks in Russia was a good place to start.

He held the phone up to his ear, listening to the ringing for a moment. Soon after, the sound of a hated voice filled his ears.

"Hello?"

"Russia" he gritted out.

"...Ahh" America gritted his teeth at the sound of his enemies voice. "America. It is good to here from you. I hope that all is well, and you have stopped stalking me?"

"I wasn't stalking you!" America snapped, defensively. "And I need to talk to you...about those attacks."

"What attacks?"

"The ones in your country!" America replied, sounding annoyed. "What the hell do you think I'm talking about?!"

"Ahh...you mean the attacks that never happened?" Russia sounded amused. "Or, at least, that is what you claim..."

"Shut up" America grumbled. "Look, the attackers...what were they wearing?" there was an awkward pause. "I mean, did they look...strange?"

"Why the sudden interest?" Russia asked, curiously. "And I am surprised that you aren't shooting out accusations about World War three..."

"There was an attack on my country" America replied, hesitantly. "It sounded just like you said...and I think I might know who did it. But I just want to be sure."

Russia was silent for a moment. Then: "You will tell me who did it, da? Or I will beat you to death with my pipe."

"Whoa!" America's eyes widened. "What the hell!?"

"Someone had the nerve to attack _my _people" he snarled. "I want to know who it is, so I can end them."

"I don't know who they are!" America protested. "I mean, why would I?!"

"You are inquiring about how they look" Russia replied, his voice deadly calm. "That gives me the idea that you know who they are...or at least have some idea. So tell me."

"I don't know!"

"Does my pipe make you happy, America?"

"Stop that!" America cried, sounding frustrated. "I'm not scared of your fucking pipe!" he went silent for a moment. Then: "...Ever heard of 'Death Eaters.'"

"Death Eaters?" Russia didn't answer for a moment. "No. I haven't" he said, at last.

"Yeah...well" America hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "I don't know much about them either. England was talking about them once, and I remember him mentioning what they wore. Skull masks; the people who attacked were wearing them as well."

"Yes; it was the same here" Russia murmured. "So, what you are saying is...England was behind these attacks?"

"What?!" America's eyes widened in alarm. _"No _that's not what I'm saying!"

"But they are English wizards" Russia pointed out.

"England hates Death Eaters!" America was mentally cursing; why the hell had he thought it was a good idea to call _Russia _of all people?! God dammit, he was probably planning on declaring war on England now...

"My country has been attacked" Russia said, a dangerous note present in his voice. "And from what you are saying, it all leads back to England."

"No it doesn't!" _'Dammit, dammit, dammit...'_

"Look, just talk to him, alright?" America said, sounding frustrated. "He'll clear it all up for you..."

"Alright then" Russia said, calmly.

"...When he gets back" America added, remembering that the other Nation was at Hogwarts at the moment.

"So he is unavailable at the moment, hmm?" Russia questioned. "That is quite convenient."

"England didn't attack us!" America cried in frustration. "Look, I know where he is. I'll send him a letter and ask him about it, okay?!"

"No" Russia replied. "I will find him and talk to him."

America's eyes widened. Oh shit...Russia was going to _murder _England...and then England was going to murder _him _when he found out that he'd fueled Russia on...

"Look, don't do that, okay" America said, trying to hide the desperation in his voice.

"I do not want this happening again" Russia replied, coldly. "I won't have England killing more of my people -"

"- But he _didn't."_

"I do not care" Russia snapped. "I will find him."

"Then I'm coming!" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I mean..." he added, in a more subdued tone. "I know where he is, and I know the way there...so I can, er, lead the way." _'And stop you from murdering and/or declaring war on England.'_

_'Or not...' _his mind added, as an afterthought. Various scenarios ran through his head; Russia smashing him with his pipe, Russia forcing him to become 'one' with him, Russia smashing him with his pipe and then forcing him to become 'one' with him...

America shuddered at the thought of what could happen on the journey to find England. Besides, he wasn't even sure if he knew where Hogwarts was. All he really knew was that it was big and somewhere in England.

...Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Russia murdered England...

"Da" America jumped at the sound of Russia's voice. "You can come."

"Well actually, maybe that's not such a good idea -"

The phone hung up.

"Goddammit" America cursed.


	12. Chapter 12

"Ahh America" America jumped as the sound of a familiar voice met is ears. "This will be enjoyable, da?"

"Russia" America gritted out. "No it _won't _be. The only reason I'm coming along is to stop you from killing England."

"Yes" Russia nodded, smiling pleasantly. His pipe was slung over his shoulder. "But you want answers too, da?"

"Yeah, whatever" America scowled at his enemy. "Let's just get going, okay?"

Russia glanced at America curiously. "Why did you ask me to meet you here?"

"Because" America replied. "It's where I keep my plane, _duh!"_

Russia stared at him for a long moment. "...We will not be going to the airport?" he asked at last.

America let out a loud, barking laugh. "Are you kidding me?!" he snorted. "Why would I want to sit in one of those cramped, uncomfortable little planes, having people kick my seat and snore in my ear? Besides, its not like we'd ever get a seat in such short notice, especially with the Christmas rush and all."

Russia stared at him. "...You will be flying us to England?"

America nodded. "Yeah, I said that, didn't I?"

More staring. "...Where is the bathroom?"

"The...bathroom?" America stared at him, not quite sure how to answer such a...normal question coming out of Russia's mouth. Finally he pointed in the general direction of it.

"It's over that way" he replied. Russia nodded and walked off, dragging his pipe along with him. America watched as he disappeared into the distance, his shoulders slumping when the other nation was out of sight.

This was going to _suck._

...

This was going to _suck._

America was pretty sure he had mentioned this before but, even if he had, it didn't matter. It just showed how extremely suck-y this was going to be.

_'At least it'll give me a chance to take my baby out for a quick ride' _he thought, smiling fondly at his plane. _'Haven't done that in a while.'_

"America?"

"What?" he stopped smiling and glared viciously in Russia's direction. The larger man smiled at him, a curious look in his eyes.

"Are you crazy?"

_"What?" _America stared at him in confusion. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"You are smiling at nothing."

America scoffed. "Oh like _you're _one to talk!" he snapped. "And anyway, I wasn't smiling at nothing. I was smiling at my baby." He patted the plane fondly.

"...I wasn't aware that you are children" Russia stated. "Will they be willing to become one with Russia?"

"Oh for godsake, I was talking about my plane!" America snapped. "You can't really be that dense. I mean -"

And then he _really saw _the plane,

He screamed.

...

Ten minutes later he was still screaming.

Russia stood to the side, patiently waiting for him to finish. When it didn't look like the other nation would be done anytime soon, he lifted his pipe and brought it down on the Americans head.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" howled America. "YOU - YOU- _what the hell was that for?!"_

Russia shrugged. "You would not stop."

"You destroyed my baby!" howled America.

"...Do you mean your plane?" Russia lifted one eyebrow. "You should really refer to it by it's given name. That way, people would not get the wrong idea."

"I don't _give _a fuck!" spat America. "You still destroyed her!"

"...Her?"

"Oh shut up!" America's face was quickly turning red. "You commie-bastard -"

"Calm down" Russia sighed. "I only took the wheels off."

"Yeah, and the way you did it, they're probably _never going to go back on!" _America let out another frustrated howl. "Why the _fuck _would you do something like that?!"

"I will not sit in a plane that you are flying" Russia stated, calmly. "I am much too young to die...again."

"You asshole, I'm an excellent pilot!" snarled America. "I've been flying for _years. _You...oh for fucks sake, I should have never agreed to come with you!"

"Shall we make our way to the airport, then?" Russia questioned. America's face turned red.

"No!" he snapped. "We might as well just go home now. You think we'll be able to get a flight in this short notice? It's nearly Christmas, for fucks sake!"

"We will get a flight" Russia replied, calmly.

America let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah right."

...

Hours later they were sitting on a flight, waiting impatiently to reach England.

"I hate you, you know that?" America muttered, scowling in Russia's direction. Russia smiled back with his usual creepy-pleasant expression.

It had taken them quite a bit of time, along with a few threats (some directed at them), cries of "_DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!" _along with a few pleas with his boss. In the end they had _finally _managed to get themselves boarded onto a plane and now could only sit, waiting for the hell to begin.

Well America was anyway...Russia seemed to be looking forward to it.

"Someones kicking my seat" America stated, dully.

"Da" Russia nodded. "You mentioned that."

"...Someone's snoring in my ear."

"Da...that too."

America sighed and slumped back in his seat, closing his eyes. "I should be a psychic" America mumbled. "I said all this would happen, didn't I?"

"Da."

A small giggle caught both of their attention. The two Nations turned their heads to glance at a girl sitting beside Russia; she looked embarrassed when she realized that she had caught their attention.

"Sorry" she mumbled, her face red. She hesitated, before adding quickly; "You two make a cute couple, by the way."

There was a moment of silence.

"Da" Russia said, nodding his head.

"What - NO!" America's eyes widened. "What the _fuck _is that supposed to mean? We aren't a couple!"

The girl looked even more embarrassed than before. "I'm sorry" she stuttered, her face red. "It's just...he kept, uh, smiling at you and -"

"- He smiles at _everyone!" _America wailed. "It's what all commie-freaks like him do!"

"Yeah, uh..." the girl kept glancing between them, her eyes wide. "I mean, I just assumed...god I'm sorry..."

"You should be! I mean, I'd rather kiss _Iggy _than this commie-bastard, and that's practically _incest -"_

" - He is in denial" Russia told the girl, softly. The girl, who looked like she wanted to die on the spot, turned away and stared at the window with wide eyes. She didn't look at them again for the rest of the plane ride.

...

"...Never again" America cursed, as he and Russia left the English airport. "I will _never ever _travel on a plane with _anyone _let alone _you _ever again for as long as I live!"

"...Americans are quite strange, da?" Russia waved to his right. America looked up to see the girl from the plane staring at them with wide eyes. She turned red and hurried off in the other direction.

"Stop acting like a creep!" he snapped. "...Also I don't know how the hell you managed to get that pipe out of there..."

"I hid it" replied the Russian. America stared at him.

"...Yes but...how -?" he blinked, shaking his head. "You know what, never mind."

"Da" Russia stared at America for a moment. America shuffled, feeling uncomfortable.

"What?" he muttered.

"You will be taking us to Hogwarts" Russia reminded him.

"Oh yeah..." America muttered. Well...that would be a problem, wouldn't it. America stared at the wide stretch of area in front of him, wondering where the hell he should start.

"America?"

"Right!" America pointed in a random direction. "It's that way!"

"...You do not know where it is, do you?" Russia sighed. America shrugged.

"Let's just...walk around. I'm sure we'll bump into it sooner or later."

Russia stared at him.

"...Or we could ask around or something. _Someone _must have heard of it, right?" America laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Russia continued to stare at him. Then he sighed and began to walk; America quickly followed him.

* * *

**AN:**

**Review please! :D**


	13. Chapter 13

Harry's eyes drifted over Dumbledore's office, studying the things he had seen each time he had come here. Nothing had changed much, yet Harry still felt a strong interest as he gazed at each vaguely familiar area.

"How are you, my dear boy?"

Harry's eyes flickered over to meet Dumbledore's. The man's eyes were twinkling in that trademark way of his; a pleasant smile had flittered across his elderly features.

"Fine" Harry murmured. _'Not that you cared much before' _he thought, bitterly.

Dumbledore's smile grew larger. "Looking forward to Christmas?" he asked, although it was more of a statement than a question. "You will be spending it in the Order Headquarters this year -"

"Is there a point to this?" Harry demanded, looking embarrassed by his outburst a moment later.

Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "I was wondering if everything was going all right" Dumbledore replied. "I haven't heard much from you."

Harry snorted.

Dumbledore gazed at him curiously. "What?" he questioned.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing" he muttered.

"Yes well..." Dumbledore frowned for a brief moment, and then his cheerful mask was back on. "I wanted to make sure that Voldemort hasn't been bothering you. Your scar - as it been hurting you at all?"

"No. It hasn't" Harry replied.

"You are certain of this?" Dumbledore pressed. "I have to know, my boy - I cannot risk Voldemort getting to you."

"My scar hasn't hurt me" Harry replied, and then hesitated. His mind flitted to his detention with Umbridge; to the feeling of pain that had burned from his scar. Should he tell Dumbledore about it?

_'No. No, there was really no point.'_

Dumbledore gazed at him, studying him closely. Harry shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable.

"Either way" the Headmaster said, at last. "I will be arranging for you to begin Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape."

"Occlu-what?" Harry frowned. The word didn't sound familiar at all. His eyes widened slightly when he realized the last part of the sentence. "With _Snape?"_

"Occlumency is the art of being able to shield your mind; to stop any person from being able to invade it. Professor Snape is an expert in this."

"Why do I need to shield my mind?!" Harry demanded.

Dumbledore hesitated before replying. "Voldemort seems to be able to forge a connection with you" he said. Seeing Harry's worried look, he added; "Don't worry, my boy - I am simply taking precautions."

"Voldemort...he can get into my head?" Harry swallowed heavily. "Why didn't you ever tell me this before?!"

Dumbledore didn't answer. Harry let out a noise of frustration.

"What's going to happen if he does?!"

Dumbledore smiled slightly and shook his head. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with" he replied, gently.

Harry stared at him in disbelief.

_"Nothing?!" _he spluttered. "It's my head!"

"I know" Dumbledore said, in that same gentle tone. It made Harry's blood boil. "If I have anything to say about it, nothing will happen."

"But -"

"Albus?" Harry stopped speaking and glanced towards the doorway of the office. Professor Kirkland stood there.

"Sorry for interrupting" he apologized. "I can wait until you're done."

"No it's fine" Harry groused. "We're pretty much done anyway."

Standing up, he marched out of the room, avoiding looking Dumbledore in the eye. Anger and frustration bubbled within him; what gave Dumbledore any right to treat him this way?

...

Dumbledore sighed and glanced up at England.

"How much did you here?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.

"Enough" England raised one eyebrow. "Albus, you really should just tell the boy about the prophecy."

Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It isn't something a boy his age should have to deal with" he murmured.

"Why not? It's about him, isn't it?" England looked at his friend, studying his tired expression.

"He is just a boy; a child" Dumbledore replied. "It is my job to protect him."

England shrugged. "Whatever" he muttered. "It's not like I agree with that prophecy anyway. It seems like something America would have cooked up."

Dumbledore chuckled slightly at that but the tension in his form was still present.

"I don't understand..." he sighed, after a moment. "Voldemort hasn't made a single move to try and steal the prophecy. I've made sure that it is constantly being guarded by a member of the Order...yet still, he hasn't done a single thing."

England snorted, his eyebrows raising in slight amusement. "It almost sounds as if you _want _Voldemort to attack" he stated. "If that's true, then why didn't you just say so? Let's go and make some party invitations and get this thing started - it'll save me a whole lot of time."

"You understand what I'm trying to say, Arthur" Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Voldemort knows about the prophecy; why isn't he doing anything about it? It isn't like him."

"Maybe he realized what a miserable old coot he really is" England replied, with a shrug.

...

When Harry arrived at the Order Headquarters later that day, he was immediately swept up in a hug by Mrs. Weasley.

"Hi Mrs. Weasley!" he wheezed, trying to breathe through her tight hug.

"Oh dear, look at you!" Mrs. Weasley fussed. "You're so skinny - Arthur, do you think he looks skinny?"

Mr. Weasley smiled in amusement at his wife, and laid a hand on her arm.

"Molly, calm down" he told her. "You're smothering the boy."

"Merlin, let go of him, you'll kill him!" cried a familiar voice. As soon as Mrs. Weasley let him go (sending the owner of the voice a dirty look as she did so) Harry whirled around, bounded over, and gave his godfather a big hug.

"Sirius!" he laughed. "It's so good to see you!"

Sirius hugged him back, holding him tightly. From behind him, Harry heard an alarmed yelp from Ron and a snicker of laughter from Ginny, who was standing beside Hermione. He turned around and saw that Ron had been swept up into one of Mrs. Weasley's killer hugs.

"This place hasn't changed much" Hermione said, looking around.

Sirius snorted. "Of course not" he muttered. "It never changes. Wish it did - there's something I definitely want wrong..." he shot a dirty look towards the direction of where his mother's portrait was hung.

Harry sighed, sympathetically. "Still haven't managed to get rid of it?"

"That woman will never leave me alone" Sirius replied, with a shudder.

"Well -"

Whatever Harry had been prepared to say was interrupted as Dumbledore entered the room, Professor Kirkland followed close behind.

"What is _he _doing here?" Ron whispered.

"Arthur, here, will be joining us for Christmas" Dumbledore told the curious figures in the room.

"Arthur?" Mr. Weasley repeated, looking interested.

"Yes" Professor Kirkland coughed slightly. "Me."

Mr. Weasley beamed widely. "Well would you look at that?" he laughed. "That's my name too!"

The Professor smiled slightly, seemingly amused by the other man's enthusiasm.

"Professor Kirkland? You'll be staying with us for Christmas?" Hermione asked, sounding excited.

Harry and Ron exchanged amused looks. The twins made kissing noises, laughing hysterically when Hermione shot them both an angry, embarrassed look.

"Yes" Professor Kirkland nodded, not seeming to notice the twin's antics. "It should be enjoyable."

Harry's eyes drifted over to where Sirius was standing; he was surprised to see that his godfather was staring intently at the Professor.

"Professor -? _YOU _are a teacher?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking incredulous. "You're so young!"

"Molly!" Mr. Weasley hissed.

Professor Kirkland smiled at him, to show that he had taken no offense, and then turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Yes well, age doesn't always equal experience - and vice versa" he told her. "Although, I don't know why I'm telling you that - it has nothing to do with my case."

He laughed. Everyone stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

"Strange bloke" Ron muttered.

Harry smiled slightly and then found his eyes drifting back over to his godfather. Sirius was still staring at Professor Kirkland; his eyes were narrowed, a strange look in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked him.

"Hmm?" Sirius blinked and shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong."

...

"You were staring at me the entire time."

England watched in amusement as the man in front of him jumped and whirled around in alarm. The hallway was now empty save for the two of them; everyone else had wandered off.

"I know you" the man, Sirius Black, muttered.

"Oh" England raised one eyebrow. "Well that's interesting. I don't think I remember you -"

"Cut the crap!" Sirius snapped. "You know what I'm talking about!"

England stared at him for a moment. "No I don't" he said, at last.

"Yes you do!"

"...Are you trying to say something while attempting to be subtle? If so, I don't like subtle - just spit it out."

"Years ago, when the Order first started out" Sirius snapped. "...Back before Prongs and Lily died...I remember seeing you."

"Prongs?" England snorted. "There's a fellow called Prongs?" he shook his head. "Ridiculous, what people call their children nowadays..."

"His name was _James _you bastard!" Sirius snarled, his eyes flashing. "Prongs was his bloody nickname!"

"James Potter?" England questioned, looking slightly interested.

Sirius pointed a finger at him. "See! You know him!" he cried, triumphantly.

England rolled his eyes. _"Everyone _knows who James Potter is, you dolt" he sniped. "He _was _the father of the Boy Who Lived!"

"Who the hell are you calling -?" Sirius began, angrily, before shaking his head. "Hey, wait a second, don't distract me! Say what you want - I KNOW I've seen you before!"

"Alright" England smirked, looking amused. "Say you have seen me before - what's the big deal? What, did you fall in love with me at first sight?"

_"YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED AT ALL!"_

"Sirius?" England glanced up; Harry stood in the doorway, gazing at them curiously. "Is everything alright?"

Sirius nodded his head, quickly. "Fine" he said.

"Yes" England nodded. "Your godfather and I were simply discussing a touchy subject."

With a nod in Harry's direction, he walked off.

...

"Sirius...?" Harry frowned at his godfather.

Sirius glared at the spot that the man had been standing in. "I don't care what Dumbledore says" he spat. "I don't trust that guy."

...

**AN:**

**Well, we're back with England! xD**

**Anyway, I just wanted to address the fact that a lot of you guys seem under the impression that I'm going to be making this an RusAme fic...I actually don't know. I mean, when I first planned this fic I was going to but then I kind of backed out...I'm hopeless at writing romance.**

**I've sort of planned this out and everything, so I don't think I'd have room for a developing relationship, even if I did think I could handle writing it. **

**Anyway, the way its looking now, there probably won't be any pairings.**


	14. Chapter 14

"...And then Ronnie-kins tackled the bloke, squealing about how he was Santa Clause - and it turned out to be _Percy!"_

George let out a loud, barking laugh, and the rest of the room soon joined in. Ron's cheeks burned in embarrassment.

"It didn't happen like that" he protested.

The week since they'd left Hogwarts had passed quickly; Christmas day had finally arrived. So far, it had been a cheerful affair, with delicious food that Mrs. Weasley had cooked up and cheerful carols to lighten the mood.

Currently, everyone was seated in the living room, exchanging stories of Christmases from their pasts.

"I have one!" Sirius grinned. "There was this one time when James was trying to pick out the best present to give Lily for Christmas - mind you, this was before they'd gotten together -"

"Oh Merlin" groaned Remus, realizing what Sirius was talking about.

"- And then, there was this cloak that Lily really wanted - how James found out about that, I'll never know - so James bought it for her. And instead of giving it to her like a normal person would, he decided that he'd _magic it onto her."_

Sirius paused for dramatic effect.

"Of course" he laughed. "He messed up the spell and ended up _vanishing all of her clothes!"_

There was a stunned silence for a moment; then the room exploded with laughter.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry gasped, his eyes wide. "How did Dad manage to survive that?!"

"Let's just say, Harry" Sirius shook his head, still smiling. "It's a miracle you were even born after everything that went on between those two!"

England observed the scene, taking in the joyous emotions throughout the room. It was nice actually; he didn't usually have such...pleasant Christmas'. He hadn't in a long time, not since America was his colony.

"Arthur, dearie?" Both England and Mr. Weasley glanced up.

"Oh not you" Mrs. Weasley laughed, shaking her head at her husband. She turned to England. "Do you have any stories to share?"

"No" England shook his head. "Not really."

"Oh, come now" Hermione, who was seated across the room with Ron and Harry, urged. "Surely there must be _something."_

"Yeah, _Arthur" _Sirius added, a hint of antagonism in his voice. "We've all had something to say."

"Alright then" England replied, narrowing his eyes. "Let's see...oh, here's a good one!"

He smiled and settled himself back, preparing himself to tell the tale. Of course, he would have to modify it but it was a story that he wouldn't have to change _too_ much.

"So" he smiled. "When my younger brother was just a child -"

"Oh" gasped Hermione, cutting him off. "You never mentioned you had a younger brother!"

England glanced at the girl, giving her an odd glance. Why on earth would he have ever told her he had a younger brother? Ron voiced his thoughts aloud.

"Hermione" the red-head said, slowly. _"Why _would he have told _you _he had a brother?"

Hermione's cheeks went red and she glared at Ron. "I was just curious, alright _Ronald" _she snapped.

"Ooooh" gasped the twins, at the same time. "Ronald!"

"Oh shut up" Ron grumbled.

"All of you be quiet!" snapped Mrs. Weasley. "Arthur's trying to talk - aren't you, dear?"

"Ah, yes" England shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I should continue...where was I?"

"Your younger brother" Mr. Weasley prompted.

"Yes, yes" England nodded. "My brother, back when he was still a child - back when he was very young" he amended, realizing that he'd need to word the story so that the age differences didn't seem too strange. "He -"

"Whats he like? Your brother, I mean" England half expected the question to be from Hermione; to his surprise, it was Ginny Weasley who had asked him. England really didn't know much about the girl and, unlike certain people (...Hermione Granger) she hadn't gone out of her way to talk to him. She'd barely said a word to him all week, despite the fact that they were staying at the same house.

"He's -" _annoying, self-centered, obnoxious, loud, annoying... _"- my brother."

Ginny gave him an odd look but didn't say anything else.

"Yes, well" England coughed. "Am - Alfred...that's his name...he wanted to know who 'Santa Claus' was. The little brat had insulted my scones earlier that day so I was in a rather bad mood at the time."

He let out a small laugh.

"So yes...anyway, when Alfred asked me, I considered telling him the story of Santa Claus the way you all probably know it."

_'Or not' _England added, silently. _'Since the story has probably changed a lot since then...'_

"But" he continued, ignoring his thoughts. "Then I thought; the brat had the nerve to insult my cooking. So I told him -"

"Wait, wait" Sirius cut him off. _"How _old were you?"

"Older than him" England replied, without hesitation. "Anyway, as I was saying - I was annoyed. So, instead of telling him that Santa Claus was a jolly old fellow who travelled around the world delivering presents...I told him that he was a big, fat pedophile who crept into houses in the middle of the night and stole little children out of their beds."

He let out a loud, barking laugh. No one joined in; they were too busy staring at him with wide eyes.

"I forgot a small detail though" England continued, grinning widely at the memory of the story he was telling. "You see, my younger brother Matthew - that's Alfred's twin - was staying with me that year. Because of this, his caretaker, Francis, had asked me if he could pretend to be Santa Claus that year and deliver Matthew's gifts. Apparently it was some silly little tradition of theirs."

It had been after England had won Canada from France; France had been distraught and had practically begged England to allow him to do this for Canada. England, as much as he'd hated the bloody Frog, hadn't been able to refuse the pathetic look on his enemy's (and, at times, friend) face.

"His caretaker?" Sirius frowned. "I don't get it. He's your brother, isn't he? Why doesn't he live with you? Speaking of which, _how _much younger are your brothers, anyway?"

"It's too hard to get into my family's dynamics" England replied, swiftly. "Let's not get into it. Back to the story - Francis had planned to dress up as Santa Claus and deliver Matthew's presents. Alfred, who was terrified from the story I'd told him..." England let out a small laugh. "Sat downstairs in the living room, too afraid to go to sleep in case Santa Claus came for him."

"He was sitting downstairs when Francis came into the house...and then Alfred saw him. He, of course, came to the conclusion that it was the 'real' Santa Claus, come to take him away..." _'The fact that 'Santa Claus' had happened to look like the perverted frog certainly hadn't helped matters.' _"And well...Alfred tried to defend himself. And, well, to put things simply..."

England collapsed on the floor in laughter.

"...I came downstairs to see what the commotion was about and he...he..._he'd set the Frog's arse on fire!"_

England choked on his laughter, tears streaming down his face. He clutched at his sides, struggling to breathe.

"Dear Lord" he gasped. "Francis, he just...ran out of the house, screaming his arse off and Alfred...he just ran after him, screaming about how he was a pervert and out to steal all the little children...all the villagers heard and believe him...dear lord, you can just imagine their reactions - they were just _closing in _on Francis, and the Frog was trying to stop the fire..."

England choked off, unable to continue speaking through his laughter.

Everyone else simply stared at him with wide, slightly horrified eyes.

...

"Hurry up, hurry, up, we're going to be late!" Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone out of the house, sounding frazzled.

"Calm down, Molly" Mr. Weasley soothed. "We won't be late. Everyone's ready now -"

"Oh no!" gasped Ginny. "I left my potions textbook upstairs! Give me a moment - I'll just go and get it -"

_"Ginny!" _Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

"Harry" Harry turned around to see Sirius staring at him. "Mind if I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure" Harry walked over to his godfather and smiled at him. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, yeah" Sirius nodded. He hesitated for a moment, before pulling Harry into a tight hug. "I'm going to miss you, pup" he murmured.

"I'll write to you" Harry promised. "I'll be really subtle about it too, just in case the ministry really are intercepting messages."

"I look forward to it" Sirius smiled. A moment later his smile faltered and he hesitated for a moment, before continuing.

"Harry" he said. "Take care of yourself, alright? And be careful with that Kirkland fellow, alright?"

Harry frowned. "Is there something wrong with him?" he asked. "Something you aren't telling me? You seem a bit...tense around him."

Sirius blinked. "Oh, um..." he hesitated. "I just don't...fully trust him. That's all" he shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable.

"But why?" Harry pressed. "There has to be a reason."

"It's just...his story" Sirius sighed. "I mean, tell me you didn't notice holes in it!"

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned.

"Well..." Sirius sighed and shook his head. "Those kids he was talking about - Matthew and Alfred. The way he was talking, if was like they were living with him. Like _he _was raising them. Look at the bloke - he has to be in his early twenties."

"It isn't that strange" Harry frowned. "He never told you their age - they could still be very young -"

"He said 'when he was still a child'" Sirius cut him off. "As his brother wasn't one anymore. It's a bit strange, don't you think?"

"I think your assuming too much" Harry reasoned. "I mean, Professor Kirkland never said he'd raised the kid. He only said that he was his younger brother."

"I guess" Sirius sighed. "It's just, the way Kirkland was talking. It was as if, when it had all happened, he was already grown up. It's...it's strange, that's all. Also..." his voice trailed off and he shook his head. "Never mind."

"What?" Harry pressed. "What is it?"

"Well...I think...I think I've seen him before" Sirius said, hesitantly. "Back when -"

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley appeared in front of them, looking frazzled. "Come _on _dear, we need to leave now or you'll miss the train!"

"Never mind, it isn't important" Sirius said, shaking his head. "Just me, getting paranoid with old age." He let out a strained little laugh.

"Sirius -"

"Take care, pup" Sirius leaned down and ruffled Harry's hair. "Just don't trust the guy too much, alright?" he whispered and leaned back.

Still frowning, Harry allowed himself to be dragged away by Mrs. Weasley.

What made Sirius so suspicious of Professor Kirkland?

...

**AN:**

**Aaaaaaaaand here's another chapter :D**

**Thank you for all your reviews :D I hope you continue to enjoy the story! **


	15. Chapter 15

After wondering for days (and missing Christmas while doing so) America and Russia finally arrived at a breakthrough.

America's brilliant plan of 'asking around and hoping someone knew what Hogwarts was' had, so far, been a complete waste of time. All the two nations had received were a bunch of odd glances, and one address to a mental asylum (where, apparently, they belonged).

They'd been ready to give up, until they had stumbled across a boring old street named 'Privet Drive.'

"...Dude, what the hell is _up _with this place?" America muttered. "I swear, all of these houses are exactly the same."

"Da" Russia agreed. "If this was my country, I'd burn it down."

"So..." America glanced down the street. "Should we...uh...start door knocking?"

Russia shrugged. "I do not know what else we would do."

"Right..." America nodded his head and walked up to a random house. He knocked on the door.

"You know" he told Russia, as the nation came up to stand beside him. "We _really _should have come up with a better plan. This...really isn't working."

"It was your plan" Russia pointed out.

"Well yeah" America shrugged. "I didn't know what else to do."

"You told me you know where Hogwarts was" Russia retorted.

"Well...yeah" America shrugged again. "You were going to kill England. What else could I do?"

The door opened and an extremely unattractive female poked her head outside a moment later. Her eyes raked over them, taking in Russia's attire (the nation, as usual, was dressed up for heavy winter) and America's messy appearance. Her nose crinkled in disgust.

"What?" she spat, looking ready to close the door in their face.

"Well" America said, preparing to repeat the same words he had said repeatedly since he'd entered the country. "We were just wondering if you know we're Hogwarts was."

There was a moment of silence.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about!" the woman snapped, her voice filled with panic. "What's Hogwarts? How do you expect me to know these things?! _Go away!"_

She slammed the door in their faces.

"...She knows something" America stated.

"Da" Russia agreed.

The two exchanged glances.

"Okay, Big Guy" America pat Russia on the back. "Break it down."

"I will break _you _down, if you call me "Big Guy" ever again" Russia muttered. He lifted his pipe, prepared to bring it down on the door. Before he could, it opened again, revealing a plump (...no, that was much to kind. _Hugely obese _was a better word) man standing on the other side.

The man's eyes widened in horror when he caught sight of the pipe.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" he howled, leaping out of the way. America winced as he watched how the man's stomach fat flapped around, as if it had a mind of it's own.

Russia lowered his pipe, looking slightly disappointed.

"Dude" America exclaimed. "Calm down, alright? We just wanted to know if you knew where Hogwarts was -"

"I told you!" shrieked the woman, once again making an appearance. "They're freaks! They're freaks!"

"Hey!" America protested. "I think 'freaks' is a little harsh - I mean, maybe that guy is" he gestured towards Russia. "But trust me, _I _am no freak - I'm much too heroic for that!"

"Vernon" sobbed the woman. "Call the police!"

"Oh come on" America moaned. "You obviously know where Hogwarts is! Just tell us and we'll leave you alone!"

"GET OUT!" howled the man. "I'M DONE WITH YOU FREAKS! LEAVE US ALONE - THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER LIVING IN THIS HOUSE!"

"...Harry Potter?" America glanced at them oddly. "I never mentioned a Harry Potter."

"Of course not" the man's eyes widened in panic. "Neither did I!"

"...No" America was starting to wonder about the man's sanity. "You did."

"Shut up!" the man snapped. "I know what I said!"

"Dude" America shook his head in disbelief. "You _definitely _mentioned a Harry Potter."

"Da" Russia rejoined the conversation. "You did."

"There. Is. No. Harry. Potter. Living. Here" the man ground out. In the background, the woman continued to ball her eyes out.

America raised one eyebrow. "Suit yourself" he said. Turning around to face the street, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted; "DO THESE DUDES KNOW A GUY NAMED HARRY POTTER?!"

The woman shrieked.

The man spluttered.

Russia smiled and raised his pipe.

"Stop it!" the woman wailed. "The neighbours will hear! Oh god, Vernon, _stop them -"_

"That's right" America smirked. "The neighbours will hear. Hey, maybe _they'll _tell us where Hogwarts is!"

"No, no!" the woman waved her hands wildly. "Don't be silly, how would they know? They aren't freaks! They aren't freaks!"

_"You_ know" Russia pointed out. "Are you freaks?"

The man's face turned red. "Of course not!" he snapped. "We are perfectly normal British citizens. We haven't done anything wrong - we aren't freaks. Now leave us alone."

"...Are you sure you're neighbours won't know?" America smiled, threateningly.

"It's our nephew you want!" the woman wailed. "He's the freak, not us! We don't know anything about_ that _place!"

"Alright then" Russia smiled pleasantly. "Does you nephew live here? We will talk to him."

"No!" the man snapped. "He isn't here! He isn't going to be back for a long time - he's at that freak school of his! Now go away!"

"But he lives here, right?" America pressed. "So he must have a room or something...can we look in there?"

Maybe their nephew - Harry, did they say his name was? - had left behind something that would give them a clue about how to find Hogwarts...it was the best lead they had at the moment.

"You freaks aren't coming in our house!" the man snapped. "Just go back to where you came from!"

"I came from America" America replied. "Except I can't go back until I find Hogwarts, or else this guy" he pointed at Russia. "Will murder my friend. For real dudes - he'd actually do it."

"Vernon" moaned the woman. "Do something."

Russia raised his pipe high in the air.

"You will let us in, da?" he smiled. "Or else I will be smashing you're head's in with my pipe."

The man turned deathly pale. The woman fainted.

Russia lowered his pipe, still smiling. Pushing the man out of the way, he gestured for America to follow him.

"Where is your nephew's room?" he asked the man, who was leaning against the wall and trembling. For a moment the man looked like he was about to argue; then he pointed a shaky hand upstairs.

"It's the second one" he muttered, sounding like he was about to throw up. Russia nodded his head.

"It is good that you are doing what we are telling you to" Russia told him.

"Yeah" America chirped. "It'd suck if Russia tried to kill you because then I'd have to save you - after all, I am the hero and all."

The two nations headed upstairs and stepped into the room they had been directed to. They looked around at the small space.

"So..." America thought for a moment. "I guess we should start...looking for some clues, right?"

"Da" Russia agreed.

...

An hour of searching the room, and all Russia and America had ended up with was an old, crumpled train ticket and a crudely drawn picture of a mutilated man with a snake face.

"I do not think that picture will be helping us much" Russia stated, as America continued to analyze the drawing through squinted eyes.

"Eh" America waved one hand in dismissal. "It's worth a shot. We don't have much to work with."

"We have this ticket" Russia pointed out, holding up the train ticket. "Perhaps it might help us."

America set the picture down and sighed.

"I guess" he muttered. Really, it was all they had. The sad thing was, it was the biggest breakthrough they'd had since they arrived in England.

America walked over and grasped the ticket. He stared down at it, as if he expected it to hold all the answers he needed.

"Kings Cross Station" he murmured. "Platform nine and three quarters."

"Nine and three quarters?" Russia's brow furrowed. "Englishmen are strange."

"Agreed" America set the ticket down. "Why can they just have _normal _platforms?"

"So..." America said, after a brief pause. "Should we, uh, go to the station?"

"Hmm?" Russia glanced at him. "Why would we do that?"

America shrugged. "I dunno...it might be a lead" he picked up the ticket again, and waved it in the air. "There might be people who know about Hogwarts - or this thing might lead us to Hogwarts itself! Who knows what we might find" he shrugged his shoulders. "Plus, it's not like we have anything else."

Russia considered this. "True" he admitted. "...Fine" he said, at last. "We will go there...after I take a nap."

America stared at him. "A nap?" he said, in disbelief. "Why the hell would you take a nap _now?"_

"I could not sleep in the plane with you snoring in my ear" Russia replied, ignoring America's loud protest of; "I wasn't snoring!"

The nation walked over to Harry's bed and lay down, wrapping his arms around himself and smiling.

"Wake me up and I will kill you."

America stood still, watching him with disbelieving eyes.

...

Petunia and Vernon watched from the small crack in the doorway.

"Are they gone?" Petunia whimpered, sounding horrified.

"...The big one's sleeping" Vernon replied, his voice shaking slightly. Petunia let out a moan and sunk to the floor in a dead faint.

...

On the train, Harry was telling Hermione and Ron about Sirius' warning.

"That's just weird" Ron said, shaking his head. "What? Did Sirius say _why _he didn't trust the bloke?"

Harry shrugged. "No, not really" he replied. "He just kept mentioning the story - and then he was going to tell me something else but your mum dragged me off before he could..."

"That _was_ one weird story" Ron muttered. "I mean, what was _up _with that? Not even mum, who had been practically cooing over the guy since he walked into the house, had anything to say to that."

"I don't know" Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Do you guys...well, from the story, did you sort of get any...assumptions?"

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, sounding confused.

"Well, Sirius says that he got the hint that, from the way Professor Kirkland was talking...it sounded like he had raised the kid."

"That isn't possible, Harry" Hermione pointed out. "Professor Kirkland looks to be in his early twenties. From what I could tell, that story happened a long time ago."

"I know, that's what I was trying to tell Sirius" Harry replied. "But he kept insisting that there were things in the story that didn't seem right."

"Well, there were" Ron said. "But I don't think the Professor raised the kid."

"...Yeah" Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Sirius was probably just getting the wrong idea."

"Yeah, probably" Ron turned to glance at Hermione and smirked slightly. "Hey, remember 'Mione with the Professor? _'Oh Professor - how could you not tell _**_me _**_you had a brother?!'"_

Hermione went red. "That isn't what I said!" she snapped. "And I was just curious, alright Ron! Merlin, I can't even _say _anything nowadays, without everyone always making assumptions -"

"Oh calm down" Ron rolled his eyes. "I was only joking."

"Wonder what his brother's like?" Harry mused.

Ron snorted. "He's probably a lot like the Professor. A bit uptight...a bit strange...since Hermione probably won't say what's on her mind, I'll speak on her behalf: a bit dreamy..."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped.

Harry grinned. "Probably has massive eyebrows too" he added.

The three of them laughed, oblivious to the fact that they would be meeting the 'little brother' very soon.

...

"Is it sad to live forever?"

England whirled around. He was traveling by train with the rest of the students; he'd decided that it was much easier than arranging his own way to reach the school. It had been relaxing too; he'd managed to find an empty train carriage, and had spent his time in there, attempting to catch up on some sleep.

Until now.

"What did you say?" he demanded, staring at the figure in the doorway. A pale-haired girl stood there, gazing at him with a faraway look on her face. England remembered the girl immediately: Luna Lovegood.

"Is it sad to live forever?" Luna repeated. "I wanted to ask you for a while but you were always so busy."

"I...I don't know what your talking about!" England snapped. "Really, it's rude to just barge in here!"

Instead of replying, Luna simply stared at him for a moment.

"You're an old soul" she told him, at last, before turning around and walking away.

"...Unnatural child" England muttered, moments later.

For now, perhaps, he would dismiss her claims as the ramblings of a lunatic. After all, from the few encounters he'd had with the girl, he'd noted her peculiar habits. She even had a whole plethora of imaginary friends; ones she talked to on a regular basis!

"How ridiculous" England chuckled, leaning back in his seat. Something rubbed against his cheek and he opened his eyes.

"Flying Mint Bunny!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering where you'd gone off too - I haven't seen you in _ages!"_

Immediately forgetting about Luna Lovegood and her comments, England patted his (one hundred percent real) friend and conversed with him about everything he had been up to, and about the strangeness of Hogwarts.

**...**

**AN:**

**Here's another chapter! I want to thank you guys for all your reviews - you're all amazing!**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :D**

**I posted a new fic out as well - it's an AU fic called "The Best Way To Screw Up A Wedding." I wanted to give writing a romance fic a shot. The pairings in this fic are Romerica, PoLiet, GerIta, FrUK and Canada/Belarus. If you guys are interested in reading it, you can find it on my profile. I've posted out two chapters so far.**


	16. Chapter 16

Harry moved his food around his plate, trying unsuccessfully to build up his appetite.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, glancing at him in concern. Ron also looked over and raised one eyebrow when he caught sight of what Harry was doing.

"Not eating, mate?" he looked down at Harry's plate. "Don't know how you can resist."

"I'm just thinking..." Harry sighed. "Dumbledore wants me to start some weird lessons with Snape...occluamence or something like that..."

"Occlumency" Hermione corrected him.

"Yeah, that" Harry nodded his head. Ron looked at them both in confusion.

"Ocla-what?" he frowned. "What _is _that. And why do you have to do it?"

"It's a technique of shielding your mind from outside threats" Hermione responded. She glanced at Harry, concern on her face. "Why does Professor Dumbledore think you need it?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "As usual, he didn't really explain why" he responded, sourly. "You know; just the same old "don't worry about it Harry" and then he sent me on my way."

Ron looked surprised. "But...it's your head, mate" he exclaimed. "How are you _not _supposed to worry about it?"

"I don't know" Harry sighed. "Maybe I can figure it out from the lessons...who knows. Anyway, it doesn't matter much anyway. Voldemort hasn't been bothering me lately."

"Really?" Hermione pressed, her brow furrowing slightly. "Are you sure? Remember when you said -"

"Yeah, I know" Harry cut her off. "But...he's been pretty silent lately. It's actually a bit unnerving..."

"Why?" Ron looked at him in confusion. "He's silent, yeah? He isn't bothering you...thats a good thing, right?"

Harry sighed and looked unsure. "I guess..." he murmured. "But...well, it's Voldemort. He's up to something...and I don't know what it is. I don't know what he's planning."

"I'm sure everything will be fine" Hermione assured him, smiling comfortingly.

...

Bellatrix's eyes never once left Voldemort's as she faced him, standing as still as a statue and waiting for him to respond.

"So what you are asking" Voldemort said, at last. "Is why we are not making a move to gain hold of the prophecy?"

Bellatrix nodded her head.

"Yes" she replied. "That is right, Master."

Voldemort leaned forward slightly; his face was expressionless.

"Are you questioning my judgement?" he asked, his voice cold. Bellatrix's eyes widened and she shook her head wildly.

"No, never!" she gasped. "I'd _never _do that, Master! I was only wondering -"

"Oh _were you?" _Voldemort sneered. "Well, in my opinion, that _is _questioning my judgement."

"I am sorry, Master!" Bellatrix whimpered. "Please forgive me, I didn't know -"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously; she stopped abruptly and lowered her eyes to the floor. The silence stretched on for a long while; Voldemort finally spoke.

"The fools are expecting me to make a move" he sneered. "They think I will jump at whatever chance I have to gain control of the prophecy. They will not be expecting this. They will not be expecting...nothing."

He smiled, coldly.

"They can waste their energy for as long as they like. They can continue to think they are safe...and then, when they least expect it, I'll make my move."

"And...what of...Potter?" Bellatrix's voice oozed with hesitation.

Voldemort smiled again; a bone chilling smile.

"He will be helping us, of course."

...

The next morning, Russia and America left the Dursley house, much to the relief of Vernon and Petunia, who had spent the night curled up on the sofa, unable to fall asleep.

They made there ways to Kings-cross Station and, after stopping more than a few times to ask for directions, they finally reached their destination.

"...So" America said, as he stared at the wrinkled ticket grasped in his hands. "We should go and find platform nine and three quarters..."

"Da" Russia nodded his head. The two nations looked at each other for a moment, and then at the crowded station. America frowned.

"For some reason I'm getting the feeling that we aren't going to find it very easily" he sighed.

"I hate wizards" Russia said, in response.

The two nations moved through the crowd, bumping into people, muttering apologies, and struggling to see through the hoards of people.

"This is ridiculous" Russia muttered. "Can I not simply scare them away with my pipe?"

_"No" _America snapped. "We want to end up in Hogwarts, not a jail cell."

"I can't _see _anything!" Russia grumbled. "Can you?"

"Um...I think I see platform nine..." America muttered, standing on his toes and squinting ahead of him. "And uh...platform ten is over there...I can't see a nine and three quarters, though."

Russia pushed him out of the way and, ignoring America's angry cries of indignation, took a look for himself.

"You are correct" he sighed, a moment later. "There is no nine and three quarters."

The two nations stared desolately at the floor for a moment. America sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"I don't get it!" he cried. "It _has _to be here! Unless this is some sort of prank ticket..." he flapped the ticket in the air. "That would just _suck!"_

Russia walked up to the nearest person - a woman in a business suit - and tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around, looking slightly alarmed when she caught sight of him.

"Yes?" she asked, her eyes wide as she studied his large build.

"Do you know where platform nine and three quarters is?" Russia asked. The woman shook her head.

"Never heard of it" she responded. "Sorry."

She hurried off and disappeared into the crowd. Russia turned around and shrugged at America. Frowning, America walked up to another person - a man this time - and nudged him.

"Excuse me" he said, when the man turned around. "Could you tell us where nine and three quarters is?"

The man let out an annoyed curse.

"Look kid, I'm not in the mood for any pranks, alright?" he snapped. "I'm already late for work and the damn train won't come - _dammit."_

"Dude!" America held up his hands. "I was only asking where the platform was -"

"Are you some sort of idiot?" the man snorted. "There _is _to platform nine and three quarters. What the hell is nine and three quarters?"

The man stormed off into the crowd, leaving gaping America in his wake.

"Dude" America muttered. "That guy is _psycho."_

For the next hour or so, Russia and America continued to travel through the crowd, asking people if they knew where platform nine and three quarters was. Every response was met with a 'no' and occasionally, some other comment.

"I'm getting flashbacks to when we first arrived in England" America sighed. Russia nodded his head at him and walked over to a nearby woman. He smiled at her and showed her his pipe.

"Tell me where platform nine and three quarters is, or I will be smashing you with my pipe, da?"

The woman's eyes widened in horror. She backed away, let out a scream and ran away.

"Russia!" America hissed. "You can't _do _that!"

"I can do what I want" Russia responded, tucking his pipe away and smiling pleasantly at America. "I _am _Russia after all."

"You can't just go around threatening people!" America snapped. "It's not how things work!"

"It works for me" Russia responded. He headed off in the opposite direction; letting out an angry exclamation, America followed behind him.

"This is your fault, you know" America told him, as they walked. "If you hadn't been so desperate to come after Iggy, we wouldn't be stuck in this stupid station -"

"You told me you knew where Hogwarts was" Russia responded, cutting him off. "If you had not said that, I would have made other arrangements to find it."

"Well...you should know by now, not to listen to me!" America snapped.

"Da, I should" Russia agreed. "But still, it is your fault."

"Is _not!"_

"Da."

"Oh god" America clenched his fists and glared viciously at Russia. "Stop it with all the 'da's' their driving me insane! It's all you ever say! _Da, da, da, da! _Well guess what, Big Guy? I can say 'da' too! You aren't that special!"

"...You are crazy" Russia told him, nodding his head.

"Yeah well you know what I have to say to that?" America flung his arms in the air and threw back his head. "DA!"

"At least I do not mangle the language of another country, and create words that grate on a persons ears" Russia responded, calmly.

"Oh well then - _da _to that too!"

"You do not even know what you are saying!" Russia let out a small laugh.

"Well da-fucking-_da!" _America let out a loud laugh. "Say what you want you Commie-Bastard, I really don't give a shit! This whole trip is fucking bullshit, you know that? We're never going to find Hogwarts - I'm going home. You can do whatever the fuck you want, I'm not sticking around -"

Russia, still smiling, picked up up and flung him at a nearby wall.

"You will shut up now" he said.

_"I HATE YOU!" _America howled, as the hurtled through the air. He closed his eyes, waiting for the bone-shattering impact that he _knew _was coming...

...It never came.

He opened his eyes.

"Am I dead?" he muttered. Looking around with slightly dazed eyes, he realized that the crowds of the station were gone. He was all alone, lying on a train platform, inches away from the tracks. He stood up and backed away. His eyes flickered around, looking for something to help him figure out where he was.

His caught sight of a nearby sign and his eyes widened.

"Platform nine and three quarters!" he cried. "Seriously, what the _hell?!" _he added, a moment later. "This is just _weird. _How the hell did I _get _here?"

He replayed the previous scene through his mind, trying to figure out what had happened for him to arrive here. He'd been arguing with Russia...the other nation had flung him at the wall...

His eyes drifted over to where the brick wall was and he stood up. He made his way over, hesitantly. He stood in front of the wall for a moment and then reached out and slowly rested his hand against the wall.

It sunk right through.

With a cry of shock, America jerked his hand back. A grin spread across his face.

"Dammit, you Commie-Bastard!" he laughed. "You actually did something right for once in your life!"

He bounded right through the wall and ended up on the other side. America glanced around, trying to catch sight of his rival.

"RUSSIA!" he called out, running over to where the other nation was standing. Russia raised one eyebrow at him, looking curious.

"You do not seem angry" he noted.

"Fuck no!" America grinned. "I just found platform nine and three quarters!"

"Da" Russia nodded. "It is through the wall."

"...What?" America's smile faded and he stared at him. "How do you know that?"

"I threw you at the wall" Russia replied. "You went straight through. Moments later you come up to me saying that you know where the platform is...it does not take a genius to figure it out."

"...Shut up" America scowled slightly. "Whatever, I found the platform, alright? Let's just go!"

_"I _found the platform" Russia corrected him, but followed anyway. Both nations walked straight through the wall, without a moments hesitation. They ended up on the other side within seconds; America glanced around, looking ecstatic.

"This is awesome!" he laughed. "We found the platform - and it's obviously magical! Now we only have to wait for a train to arrive and we'll probably be on our way!"

"Da" Russia agreed, taking a seat down on the cold concrete. "For now, we will wait."

...

They waited for another three hours; no train came.

"...I do not think there is a train" Russia said, at last.

"Oh come on" America sighed, staring miserably at the tracks. "There _has _to be. This is a train platform, for crying out loud!"

"I do not think the train will be coming today" Russia responded. "Perhaps we should simply follow the tracks?"

"What? No!" America looked horrified at the idea. "Who knows how long that would take us?!"

"You could use the exercise" Russia told him. America's expression darkened with rage.

"Shut up!" he spat. "I'm not fat! _You're _one to talk!"

Ignoring him, Russia stood up and began to walk forward. America leapt to his feet and jogged to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"I am walking" Russia responded. America stood still for a moment; then, with a sigh, he began to follow the other nation.

...

"Hello Hagrid" England nodded his head and smiled at the half-giant. Hagrid walked up to him, grinning widely.

"Arthur!" he greeted. "I was wonderin' if yeh were gunna come by or not."

"Yes, well" England pet the air near his shoulder; Hagrid stared at him in confusion.

"Eh?" he muttered. "Wha' are yeh doin'?"

"Petting Flying Mint Bunny" England responded. Hagrid stared at him, blankly. "Actually, that's why I'm here" the nation continued. "You teach Care of Magical Creatures, am I correct? I've decided to allow you to use Flying Mint Bunny for a couple of lessons! How does that sound?"

"Eh..." Hagrid stared at him, blankly. "You eh...say tha' this Flyin' Mint Bunny is in tha room righ' now?"

"Right here!" England pet the space near his shoulder again; Hagrid continued to stare at him.

"Eh...tha should be fine" Hagrid looked like he wasn't sure _what _to say. "I'm sure tha class'll love...Flyin' Mint Bunny..."

"Excellent!" England beamed at Hagrid, before exiting through the door of the half-giants hut.

"Hopefully this will convince people of Flying Mint Bunny's existence..." England muttered, shaking his head and laughing gleefully. He pet his (one hundred percent real) friend and smiled.

**...**

**AN:**

**A lot more England in the next chapter, I promise :D**

**Hope you enjoyed this chap; more will be coming soon! :D :D :D **

**Also, I've posted out a crack!one-shot called 'The Matchmaking Catastrophe.' If you like to check it out, its on my profile :D**


	17. Chapter 17

"...I need a break" America panted. Russia glanced at him briefly and raised one eyebrow.

"Again?" he asked.

"We've been walking for _ages!" _America snapped. "I've lost count of how many days have passed!"

Russia snorted. "So dramatic" he murmured. "It has not been that long."

"Oh please!" America flung his arms in the air and rolled his eyes, looking disbelieving. "I've seen the sky go dark at least two times now -"

"Only once" Russia corrected him. "You are adding extra time on. It has not been that long."

America shrugged his shoulders and glared at the floor.

"Whatever" he muttered. "I still want a break."

"No wonder England left you" Russia sighed. "You are one of the most irritating people I have ever met."

"...What the hell is _that _supposed to mean?!" America demanded. "England never left me - I left _him! _It's called the 'Revolutionary War' if you ever feel like doing a bit of research!"

"Yes but he hated you in the end, da?" Russia responded. "That is why you threw a childish fit."

"..._No!" _America flung his arms in the air, looking furious. "Dude, stop trampling all over my achievements! It wasn't a 'childish fit' - it was me responding to his unjust ways! And I _did not _leave because England 'hated me' you _dick, _I left for the good of my country!"

Russia laughed. "So defensive."

"I'm not _defensive - _you don't even know what you're _talking _about. It's in _textbooks _and _movies _and _museums _and - stop _laughing at me!" _

Needless to say, they didn't end up stopping for another break for a while.

...

Giving Potter an occulmency lesson was the last thing he wanted to do but then, when did he ever get what he wanted? This knowledge didn't stop Snape from scowling darkly as he made his way down the long corridor.

"Bloody Potter" he cursed, under his breath. "No matter how many years pass, there is always one present to make my life hell..."

"Hmm..." he murmured, a moment later. "I wonder if there's a spell out there that could stop the boy from reproducing...that would help me quite a bit..."

"Talking to yourself, Severus?" laughed a voice from behind him. Snape froze and his eyes nervously raked the corridor, praying that there would be someone else present.

No...it was just him.

And Kirkland.

"What do you want?" Snape gritted out, ignoring the slight pounding in his chest. He wasn't afraid...he _wasn't _afraid!

...Of course, being afraid wouldn't be an issue. Not with Kirkland; the bloody man had come back to life! He'd died; he'd _stopped breathing _and then had come back to life, as if nothing had ever occurred. Being afraid would be a very rational response.

...Not that he was, of course.

"I am simply walking down the corridor" Kirkland replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm feeling slightly lonely, actually. I just loaned Flying Mint Bunny over to Hagrid to use for his next class..." he let out a wistful sigh.

Snape stared at him.

"Flying...Mint Bunny?"

"Yes" Kirkland perked up and nodded his head. "He's my...well, not my 'pet' exactly. That would be wrong and _completely _derogatory. Flying Mint Bunny is my friend; and a very good friend at that."

"Flying...Mint Bunny" Snape repeated, trying to figure out exactly _what _Kirkland was going on about. "What the hell...is a Flying Mint Bunny?"

"Not 'what'" Kirkland scowled. _"Who. _It's his _name."_

"...Right" Snape blinked.

"As for what he is..." Kirkland thought for a moment. "Well...his name pretty much gives it away, I suppose. He is a flying green bunny rabbit."

Snape stared at him for a moment.

"Is that a joke?" he asked, at last.

"No, of course not" Kirkland replied, shooting him an odd look. "Why so surprised, Severus? You are a wizard - open your mind a little bit."

"I am rather open-minded" Snape retorted, his voice cold. "However, throughout all my years of being apart of the Wizarding community, I have _never _heard of a flying green bunny rabbit."

"What can I say - Flying Mint Bunny is one of a kind" Kirkland shrugged. "As are all of my other amazing friends."

...And then Snape remembered that Kirkland wasn't just a blubbering fool; he was a blubbering fool that had come back from the dead.

"I need to go" Snape muttered. "I'm busy."

Kirkland was silent for a moment.

"Severus" he said, at last. "I think we should...discuss something. Something I think that has been on your mind for a while..."

"Kirkland" Snape snapped. "I'm not interested in having any sort of discussion with you. I have things to do -"

"No, no, I really think we should talk about this" Kirkland insisted.

"We _don't need to talk!" _

"...I just wanted to say -"

_"Kirkland!"_

" - That I understand why you'd be a little...embarrassed about your outburst in the hall a while back. Don't worry too much; we all say and do silly things. Avoiding me isn't going to make the past go away."

Snape stared at him.

"Excuse...me?" he choked. "I don't...what...?"

"You don't need to be embarrassed about your outburst" Kirkland repeated, smiling. "It's fine."

"I...I'm not _upset _about _that _you IDIOT!" Snape growled. "Why in the name of Merlin would I CARE about that?!"

Kirkland shrugged. "Well, I can't imagine what else it would be."

Snape stared, opened-mouth at his fellow professor stared back at him. His eyes zeroed in on the slight smirk on Kirkland's lips; dammit the other man was _laughing _at him!

"I'll see you later Severus" Kirkland said. He gave him a brief nod before continuing on his way. Snape stared after him, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"That...that...that..." Snape struggled for a good word. "That...that _fucking twat!"_

...

Snape was late.

Harry sighed as he leaned back in his chair, and stared around his professor's office. It was so different from Dumbledore's but then, that was only to be expected.

He glanced towards the doorway, wondering Snape had forgotten about his lesson. Or maybe the other man had decided not to come...Harry wouldn't put that past him.

His eyes drifted over to Snape's desk, where a familiar looking object had been placed; a penseive. He stared at it for a few moments, studying it closely. It closely resembled the one Dumbledore had used the year previously.

Harry had noticed the object soon after he had entered Snape's office, and his thoughts had drifted towards ones about it as he'd lounged around in the office. He couldn't help but wonder what Snape had put in there; what sort of memories would be present in the most private of objects belonging to the most private of professors?

Perhaps something relating to Voldemort?

Harry had to admit; he was curious. He wanted to know _so badly _what Voldemort was up to. Why was he so silent? Why hadn't he done anything since his resurrection of sorts?

And why did Dumbledore think that these lessons were so important?

There were so many questions that Harry wanted answered, and he was certain that Snape would have them. If the man had no information on Voldemort, then surely he would know what Dumbledore was hiding from him. What Dumbledore found necessary to keep hidden from him, he had no qualms with revealing to the Order.

Walking over to that penseive and taking a look inside would be so easy...

At that moment, Snape walked through the door.

Harry wasn't surprised to see a scowl stretched across his Professor's face. The older man glanced up and his expression darkened when he caught sight of Harry.

"Let's get this over with" he spat.

...

Harry needed information; he _needed _it!

That little penseive had stayed in his line of vision throughout the entire lesson; he had been unable to drag his eyes away from it. He just _knew _it would hold at least some of the information he wanted.

A part of him desperately wished that he had taken a quick peak before Snape had walked into the room but a part of him simply felt guilty. Despite how much of a git Snape could be, that penseive was his property. It housed some of his most private thoughts. Snooping around was just...wrong.

"I need to take a look in Snape's penseive."

Then again...what Dumbledore was doing wasn't exactly right either.

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks; Hermione looked apprehensive and Ron simply looked confused.

"What's a penseive?" he asked, sounding blank.

"It's an object that holds a persons thoughts" Hermione responded. "They can view them when they feel like it...it's excellent for clearing your mind."

She glanced at Harry.

"What do you _mean _you want to look into Snape's penseive?"

"I need to know what Dumbledore's being hiding from me" Harry replied, taking a seat down in front of his friends and staring at them with wide eyes. "I _know _there are things he isn't telling me...I need to know what they are."

"So how will looking through _Snape's _memories help you?!" Hermione demanded, sounding slightly appalled.

"Oh come on, Hermione" it was Ron who answered. "Snape knows _everything. _And he's part of the Order."

"Well yes...but we can't just look through his memories!" Hermione cried. "It's just so wrong!"

"It's in his office" Harry told her. "Just...sitting there. On the desk. I _know _it isn't the best choice, Hermione, I really do. It's just...there's a chance I could figure things out. Dumbledore's hiding things from me and they concern me...he won't tell me _anything! _It's driving me mad..."

"Oh Harry" Hermione's shoulders slumped. "Can't you just...talk to the Headmaster?"

"Trust me, I've tried" Harry snorted.

"I'm with you, mate" Ron told Harry, giving him a supportive smile. "Plus, it would be pretty brilliant to hear what Snape is thinking."

"We wouldn't be _hearing _his _thoughts" _Hermione replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "And it isn't brilliant, it's _wrong!"_

"I'm going later today" Harry told her. "After everyone goes to sleep...I get why you don't agree with it. But...I need to know."

Hermione muttered a small, "fine" and continued to look displeased with the situation.

"So...at nighttime then" Harry decided. "After everyone has gone to sleep, we'll sneak down to Snape's office and take a quick peak."

"Let's just hope he doesn't catch us" Hermione muttered.

**...**

**AN:**

**Thank you for all your reviews! You guys are amazing :D **

**There's not long to go before America and Russia arrive at the school! Haha, I'm glad you guys like the antics of those two - their definitely fun to write xD And of course, England is an incredibly fun character as well...especially when you add Flying Mint Bunny into the mix!**

**Review and tell me what you think of this chapter :D**


	18. Chapter 18

America and Russia came to an abrupt stop and stared at the sign in front of them.

"Hogsmede" America read, his eyes squinted as he struggled to see in the darkness. "That...is a horrible name for a place."

"It is England" Russia pointed out.

"...True."

Russia stepped forward and frowned at the sign, his eyes drifting over the words.

_"Hog_smede" he said. _"Hog_warts. See a connection?"

"No" America frowned. Then a moment later, this eyes widened in realization. "Hey!" he cried. "They both have 'hog' in them!"

Russia snorted. "Well done."

"Oh shut up" America grumbled. "So...do you think we're close to Hogwarts now? I knew following those train tracks would be a good idea!"

Russia snorted, again. "It was _my _idea."

"Yeah, you keep believing that" America told him, rolling his eyes. He turned away from his rival, and allowed his eyes to roam the village.

"Do you want to continue to Hogwarts now?" he asked. "Or should we just stay the night somewhere?"

"I would like to continue our journey" Russia replied. "I am eager to wrap my hands around England's throat, and demand he tell me what has been going on."

America turned to stare at him, his eyes wide.

"Hey, _hey!" _he exclaimed. "There will be no wrapping your hands around England's throat, understand?! We'll ask him nicely - he probably won't know, but since you're so determined - and that's it."

"Will you try to stop me?" This seemed to amuse Russia.

"Yes" America nodded his head, firmly. "I'm the hero, aren't I?"

This seemed to amuse Russia even more; he started to laugh.

"Don't laugh at me!" America snapped. "It's the truth! I'm not going to let you kill England!"

"Despite the fact that he hates you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?!" America howled. _"I _left _him!"_

"Da" Russia nodded. "But he still hates you."

"Yeah, well" America struggled to find words. "The _world _hates you!"

"They fear me" Russia corrected him. "And it makes me very happy."

"I'm not afraid of you!" America snapped. "In fact, I laugh in the face of your -"

Russia raised his pipe; America let out a squeak of fear.

"Stop doing that!" America cried. "And don't laugh at me - how do you _think _a normal person would react, when having a _pipe _raised over their head?!"

"I would laugh" Russia replied.

"Yeah, well, _you _arent normal."

"You know, America" Russia murmured, ignoring his previous statement. "Petty arguing is getting us no where. Perhaps we should continue our journey now?"

America scowled at him, but shrugged his shoulders anyway.

"Fine" he snapped. "Let's get this over with - I can't _wait _for this all to be over, so I can go home!"

...

"Ron wake up" Harry hissed, to his sleeping friend. "Come on, it's time to go!"

"Five more minutes, mummy" Ron muttered, turning over slightly. Harry shook his friend and Ron let out a loud snort, before once again falling silent.

_"RON!"_

"I'm up, what is it, where's the hippogriff?!" Ron sat up abruptly, his eyes wide. Harry stood back, looking at him oddly.

"The hippogriff?"

Ron, realizing where he was, turned red in embarrassment. "Don't ask" he muttered.

He climbed out of bed and stretched. He ran a hand through his now-messy hair, and blinked at Harry sleepily.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We're going now" Harry told him. "To see Snape's penseive, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Ron suddenly looked a lot more awake and alert. He headed towards the doorway and Harry followed, trying to keep his footfalls as quiet as possible, in order to avoid waking up their roommates.

"There you are" Hermione sighed, once they'd made it outside. "I was waiting here! What took you so long?!"

"Ron was having fun with the hippogriffs" Harry repied. Ron went red and muttered something under his breath. Hermione glanced at the oddly, but didn't press the matter.

"I brought the invisible cloak" Harry informed his friends, pulling it out of his pocket and straightening it out. "We should be safe, although let's make an effort to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris anyway. Better to be on the safe side."

"I'm still not happy with this" Hermione grumbled. Harry simply shrugged in response, and held out the cloak to her. The three of them all gathered together under it, trying to conceal themselves with the material. It wasn't an easy job, what with how much they had all grown since Harry had first received the cloak. Ron, who was the tallest of them all, seemed to be having the most trouble.

"Perhaps we should just go to bed?" Hermione suggested, her voice hopeful.

"You can" Harry replied. Hermione frowned slightly but made no movement to go back to her room.

In the end, the trio managed to make it to Snape's office without having to face any obstacles. Hermione pulled out her wand, prepared to use it to unlock the door if need be. When Harry tried the handle, the door swung open, and Hermione once again pocketed her wand.

"Come on" Harry whispered. The trio stepped into the office, and Harry gently closed the door behind him.

"So this is Snape's office" Ron observed, his eyes wandering around. "Somehow, I always imagined it to be...darker."

"I don't know, it's pretty dark" Harry replied.

Ron shook his head. "Nah" he responded. "I mean, I expected it to be full of bat posters, and dementor figurines."

"Yes Ron" Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes. Ron frowned.

"Hey!" he said, defensively. "It's perfectly reasonable!"

Harry glanced around the room, searching for the penseive. He spotted it in the place he had earlier than day; he turned back to Ron and Hermione, and gestured for them to quieten down.

"The penseive is over there" he told them, pointing towards it. Hermione and Ron followed his finger, allowing their gazes to fall upon the object.

"That little thing?" Ron raised one eyebrow. "That's what all the fuss is about?"

"It's an amazing object, Ron" Hermione retorted. "Do you know the things a person could do with one of those? Why, the list goes on -"

Harry cut her off. "It's going to help us quite a bit."

"Only if it has what you want" Hermione pointed out.

"It will" was Harry's response.

...

"Wow..." America gazed up at the large castle in front of him, his eyes wide. "So..._that's _Hogwarts?"

Russia snorted. "I've seen better castles in _France."_

"Oh come on!" America cried. "You've got to admit, it's pretty impressive!"

"It is a pile of rubble" Russia argued. "There is nothing 'impressive' about that."

America rolled his eyes, and scowled at his rival. "Like you can do any better" he grumbled.

"You are defending England" Russia told him. America quietened down after this.

The two nations walked forward, perfectly in step with each other. While Russia didn't seem to be too impressed with his surroundings, America looked around gleefully, resembling a child in a candy store (or France in a strip club).

"So what's the plan?" America questioned. "Are we just going to walk inside and look for Iggy?"

"Yes" Russia nodded his head. "It should not be too hard. We will simply demand an answer from a few students, and they will help us. My pipe will do most of the work in convincing them."

"Russia!" America snapped. "We aren't going to harm the students, alright?"

"As usual, you will not have a say in it" Russia responded. America opened his mouth to let out an angry retort; before he could, a loud voice boomed through the area.

"Who are yeh?"

Both nations glanced up, to see a large man barrelling towards them.

"Holy shit, he's _huge!" _America cried.

"And fat" Russia noted. "Fatter than you."

America whirled around to glare at him. "I'm not fat!" he snapped.

"Who are yeh?" the man came to an abrupt stop in front of them, and glared at them suspiciously. "Yeh aren't students."

"How do you know that?" America retorted. "We could be!"

"Shut up" Russia told him, before turning to the man. "Tell us where England is, or I will be smashing you with my pipe, da?"

"Shut up, you can't _say _things like that!" America hissed. Then, processing the beginning of Russia's sentence, his eyes widened. He turned to the man.

"He didn't mean 'England'" he told him, forcing himself to laugh. "That was a slip of the tongue. He meant...the English-dude. Yeah, that's right."

Russia stared at him. "They are all English."

"What the bloody 'ell are yeh talkin' about?" the man demanded. "Yeh aren't makin' any sense!"

"We ah...need to go into the school" America told him. "There's...someone we need to find."

"You will let us in, da?" Russia growled.

The man stared at them, as if they had multiple heads. "I ain't takin' yeh into tha school!" the man snapped. "Whod'yeh think I am?"

"A very big man" America muttered.

"Who are yeh anyway?"

"That is not important" Russia replied, calmly. "What is important, is that you take us into the school. Now."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because. There is someone we need to kill."

"What? No!" America whirled around and glared at Russia. "I told you, we aren't killing Iggy!"

"Iggy?" the man frowned. "I don' know anyone by tha name of Iggy."

"I mean Eng - er, Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

The man's eyes widened in realization. "Yeh mean, Professor Kirkland?" he asked. "Yeh friend's of 'is?"

"Yes" America responded.

"No" Russia replied.

Both nations shared glances; Russia smiled pleasantly, while America glared at him.

"I'm Hagrid" the man told them. "I'm tha games keeper, round 'ere. Now, who are yeh? I might be more willin' ta help if yeh tell me."

"I am Ivan" Russia replied, using his human name. "This is Alfred - he is Arthur's brother."

America frowned slightly at that, feeling a twinge of sadness. England's brother...he hadn't been called that, or thought of himself as that, for a long time. The fact that Russia had introduced him that way...well, it was nice.

"Arthur hates him very much."

...Or not so nice.

"You asshole!" America growled.

Hagrid was now gazing at America, recognition in his eyes. "So, yer Alfred!" he exclaimed. "Some'ow I though' yeh'd be younger."

America's eyes lit up slightly. "Iggy mentioned me?!"

"...Yer, he did" Hagrid said, after a brief pause. "A bit o' an...interestin' story. Did yeh really set someone's pant's on fire?"

Russia gazed at him curiously; America blushed.

"Why the hell did he tell you about that?" he muttered.

"Fun Christmas story" Hagrid replied.

"Will you take us to him now?" Russia asked. "I would like to finish this, so that I can go home."

"Eh, sure" Hagrid hesitated for a moment. "I mean, yeh are friend's of 'is, right?"

"No" Russia replied. "He is his brother" he jerked his head towards America. "And I hate him. That is all."

"Well, eh..." Hagrid frowned slightly. "I guess...if yer his brother, it should be alrigh'" he glanced at America. "I'll have to ask Dumbledore though."

"Dumb Whore?" America let out a snort of laughter. "Who the hell is _Dumb Whore?" _

"Dumbledore" Hagrid sounded slightly annoyed. "It's tha 'eadmaster."

"A headmaster named Dumb Whore" America shook his head, still chuckling. "What will they think of next..."

"C'mon, then" Hagrid sighed. "Let's go ask 'im, then."

As the nations followed him, Hagrid glanced back at them, his brow furrowed slightly.

"I have ter ask" he said. "But why are yeh comin' 'ere so late at night?"

"We were looking for this place for days" America told him, shuddering slightly. "Trust me, it wasn't fun."

Hagrid simply shrugged his shoulders, and continued to walk.

...

Gazing around, Harry observed the scene that the penseive was showing them.

"Where is this?" he murmured. "It looks...a bit creepy, actually."

"Yeah" Ron agreed. _"This _is how I expected Snape's office to look."

_"THERE IS NO EXPLANATION FOR THIS!"_

The trio all simultaneously jumped at the sound of Snape's voice; they turned around, in time to see the professor storm past them, a dark expression on his face. Walking beside him was...Professor Kirkland.

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "What is _he _doing here?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I don't understand" she murmured. "Professor Snape seems to hate Professor Kirkland...what are they doing together?"

"Severus!" called another voice. Hermione and Ron both looked confused; Harry on the other hand, paled dramatically.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, sounding concerned. "Are you alright?"

Harry shook his head, struggling to find words.

"Mate?" Ron's brow furrowed as he stared at him.

"That voice" Harry managed, at last. "That...that's Voldemort's voice."

Ron and Hermione both stared at him, their eyes filled with shock. Ron's jaw dropped open.

"Are you saying that _You-Know-Who _is here?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. Harry swallowed and steeled his shoulders.

"Only one way to find out."

Professor Kirkland and Professor Snape had begun to head of in the other direction; Harry, Ron and Hermione followed after them.

"I don't understand" Hermione muttered, shaking her head. "Why would Professor Kirkland be coming to see Voldemort?"

"Maybe you were right after all, mate" Ron said.

The trio reached a door and stood outside, hesitating for a moment. Harry stared at the door, unsure of what to do. In the end, it was Hermione who opened the door.

The trio stepped into the room, in time to see Snape collapse onto the ground, screaming in pain.

"Oh Merlin!" gasped Hermione, her eyes wide and horrified. "It's the crucius curse!"

"My God" Professor Kirkland murmured, shaking his head. "You certainly don't give second chances, do you?"

"How can he be so _calm?!" _Harry cried, his voice disbelieving.

Ron looked pale as he stared ahead of him - not at Snape, but at the figure standing over his professor.

"Is that You-Know-Who?" he choked.

"Yes" Harry nodded his head. "That's him."

"Dumbledore values you" Voldemort murmured; it took Harry a moment to realize that he was speaking to Professor Kirkland. "He trusts you...and yet I find you completely annoying. So this will make me happy...and it will annoy the old fool. Perfect."

Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at the other man.

"What's he doing?" Hermione asked, in a shaky voice.

Voldemort's next words made all three of them pale.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry's eyes widened in alarm as he watched, almost in slow motion, as the green light rushed towards his professor.

"NO!" he cried. In the back of his mind, he was trying to calm himself, rationalizing that there was no _way _that Professor Kirkland could have been hit, since the man was still alive...

...But then the light hit the man, and all hope went down the drain.

Harry, Hermione and Ron watched with wide eyes as Professor Kirkland toppled to the ground, dead.

Hermione started to scream.

Harry numbly watched the dead body on the floor, his entire form trembling. How...how was that possible? Professor Kirkland...he wasn't dead...

Suddenly the room vanished and, once again, the three of them were standing in Snape's office. Harry continued to stare numbly ahead, trying to make sense of everything.

"Merlin" Ron choked. "I..._really _wasn't expecting that."

Hermione had stopped screaming and was now staring ahead, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

"I don't understand" Hermione whispered. "He...died."

"But he didn't" Harry shook his head. "He...he's still alive. He's still in the school..."

"Snape is terrified of the bloke" Ron choked. "Bloody terrified..."

Any further conversation was halted as the door of the office suddenly opened.

**...**

**AN:**

**Hey everyone! :D Review and tell me what you think :D Also, I posted out a new fic called "Child's Play" where, thanks to Prussia, America and Germany end up getting de-aged. If you like to check it out, its on my profile :D**


	19. Chapter 19

England was in a lovely place.

It was a place where unicorns galloped around freely; while fairies fluttered around your head, letting out tinkering laughs. It was a place where Flying Mint Bunny could be seen by all.

Best of all, it was a place where America had never rebelled, and where France licked the ground that he walked on.

...And then he woke up.

"Arthur!" yelled a voice from outside of his room; this was followed by a string of knocking. "Open tha door, tha's someone 'ere ta see yeh."

Arthur frowned for a moment, trying to place the voice in his sleep deprived mind. A moment later he realized; it was Hagrid.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, pulling himself out of bed. He glanced at a nearby mirror and grimaced; he looked a mess.

_'Bloody bed-hair,' _he thought, as he made his way over to the door.

"What is it?" he asked, once he had opened the door. "What's going on? Don't you know the time -"

He paled.

"Ello," Hagrid said, smiling broadly. "Yeh have some visitors 'ere. Yer brother an' friend."

"...What the _bloody fuck _do you think you're doing here?!"

America gave England a wide, cheerful grin. "Hey Iggy!" he exclaimed. "Dude, you have _no idea _how hard it's been to find you! Rus - er, Ivan and me have been looking _everywhere."_

"You...you..." England struggled to control his breathing. His eyes flickered to Russia, who was standing next to America, his usual creepy-pleasant expression on his face, and he struggled not to...to...well, do something he'd probably regret.

(Or maybe not, if it would rid himself of the bloody yank).

"Wha's wrong?" Hagrid sounded confused. "Yeh aren't happy?"

"Of course I'm not bloody _happy!" _England glared, viciously. "Why the hell would I be happy?!"

"Aww, come on Iggy!" America continued to grin. "Of course you're happy to see me! I'm your favourite nation!"

England glared at him.

"...I mean, person."

"Enough of this nonsense," Russia interrupted. "We have business to discuss, Arthur."

"Oh, go home!" England snapped. "It's too bloody late for any of this...and I'm still not fully convinced that this isn't some messed-up nightmare..."

Hagrid continued to watch, confusion etched onto his face.

"We will be talking," Russia replied, coldly. "I've wasted enough time searching for you."

"No one asked you to!" England snapped. He whirled around to glare at America. "And _you _stop bloody smiling! This isn't funny!"

"Aww, but _Iggy -"_

"Stop bloody calling me that!"

"Leave, big man," Russia said, to Hagrid. "I have business to discuss with the Englishman."

"I...eh..." Hagrid looked unsure of what to do.

"Why the bloody hell did you bring them here?!" England demanded. "Why did you even let them into the _school?!"_

"Well...'e said 'e was Alfred. Yer brother." Hagrid frowned slightly. "'e is, isn't he?"

England simply scowled in response.

"An' Dumbledore said it'd be alrigh'...I didn't think there'd be a problem."

"Oh _Dumbledore _did, hmm?" England scowled deeper. "Well...bloody hell! I have to have a talk with him."

He stormed past Hagrid, Russia and America, and made his way down the corridor.

"Iggy, where are you going?" America called after him. "Don't you want to tell us what you've been doing?"

"Arthur!" Russia yelled. "I have things to discuss with you - stop now, or I will be forced to bring my pipe down on your head."

"Dude!" America cried, in protest. "You can't do that! Remember what I said - no hurting Iggy!"

"Shut the _bloody hell _up!" England howled.

Hagrid, looking completely blank, followed behind the nations.

"I can't bloody...how dare you..." England was still cursing under his breath moments later, as he continued to walk down the corridor. "Can't I get a bloody minute to myself?"

"Dude...I think you should speak to Russia..." America glanced at the larger nation, nervously. "...I seriously think he's going to kill you if you don't -"

"Shut the bloody hell up," England snapped. "I will not speak to _Ivan."_

"That is too bad," Russia interjected. He stroked his pipe and smiled.

"Actually dude, I kind of want to speak to you too," America admitted. "I mean, you've been hanging here for a while...you might know something."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," England snapped. "And even if I did, I wouldn't help."

"Yes you would," America argued. "Anyway, where are we going now?"

_"I _am going to have a little discussion with Albus," England replied. "And then _you _and that _brute _will be going home!"

"Dude, Russia won't take no for an answer," America responded. England simply scowled in response.

"Do you like my pipe?" Russia questioned, smiling at Hagrid. The half-giant swallowed and stared back, nervously.

"It's...eh, yer have a nice pipe, alrigh'."

"It is good that you said that." A menacing twinkle shone in Russia's eyes; Hagrid quickly quickened his footsteps.

"Can you wait _outside _until I'm done?" England growled. "I mean - you aren't going to be here long -"

"Iggy dude, I'm serious, I don't think Rus - err..." his voice trailed off as England's scowl deepened. _"Ivan_ will be taking no for an answer - he's pretty determined."

"I don't _care -"_

"'Ey, stop there fer a minute." America and England stopped walking and turned to stare at Hagrid.

"What?" England asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Tha's Snape's office," Hagrid said, pointing at a door. "Tha's voices comin' from inside."

"So?" England prepared to start walking again. "What's the big deal? It's probably Severus."

_"Severus?" _America snorted. "Dude, what is _up _with you English guys? You all have the weirdest names."

"I don' think there'd be anyone abou' at this time o' nigh'," Hagrid pointed out.

England sighed. "Fine then." He walked over to the room. "Let's just check that everything's alright, and _then _I'm going to Albus' office, alright?"

He opened the door.

...

When the door opened fully, revealing who was on the other side, Harry felt his insides grow cold.

"Ey, wha' are ye doin' in thar?" Hagrid demanded, his eyes narrowing at the sight of them.

Harry ignored him; his eyes were focused solely on the person standing in front of Hagrid.

Professor Kirkland.

"Bloody hell," the man cursed. "What are you lot doing in _Severus' _office at this time of night?"

"What do we do?" Ron, who had spoken, sounded shaky and terrified.

Harry couldn't seem to find his voice; he continued to stare with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

"I'm guessing you three do not have permission to be here?" Professor Kirkland sounded irritated. "Bloody hell - I'm going to have to deal with this now, aren't I?"

"You were dead," Harry finally managed to choke out.

"Pardon?" The Professor's eyebrows drew up (despite the confusion clouding him, Harry couldn't help but take note of their enormity). "What did you say?"

"You were dead." This statement, repeated in a louder voice, caused the professor's eyes to grow wide.

"Excuse me?" Professor Kirkland swallowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"You died!" Harry wondered how many times he would have to repeat himself. "I saw - in Snape's penseive - Voldemort...he _killed you!"_

"Wha' are they on abou'?" Hagrid asked, looking bewildered. "Who died?"

"Someone died?" Harry's eyes drew up to a figure standing beside Professor Kirkland. The boy (or perhaps man - Harry couldn't really tell) was unfamiliar.

"No," Professor Kirkland snapped. "Now, don't _you _start asking questions!"

The boy ignored Professor Kirkland's warning, and repeated his previous statement. "Somebody died?"

"Somebody _will _die, if the Englishman doesn't start talking," growled another man, smiling pleasantly despite his menacing words.

"Who are those people?" Hermione whispered.

"Shut up!" Harry jumped, thinking that the Professor had been talking to them; instead he was glaring at the two strangers.

"I told you," he growled, "I don't know anything about whatever _bloody bullshit _you are on about!"

"I would think carefully about your words, da?"

"Don't ignore us!" Harry's voice was filled with anger, despite the fear wracking his body. "You...are you even Professor Kirkland?"

His eyes widened as the possibility struck him.

_"What?" _Professor Kirkland's eyes darkened. "What the bloody hell are you on about?"

"Dude!" one of the stranger's - the younger one - eye's widened in shock. "You aren't Iggy?"

"Don't bloody call me that!" snapped the Professor. "And _yes _you idiot, who else would I be?!"

"Professor Kirkland is dead!" This time, it was Hermione who spoke. Her voice trembled slightly. "We saw it - we saw him get hit by the killing curse. _He died."_

"Eh?" Hagrid looked around, still confused. "Wha...Professor Kirklan' isn't dead."

"Yeah!" the younger stranger nodded his head. "I'd know if Iggy were dead!"

The older stranger's eyes glinted, menacingly. "He will be dead soon if I don't receive answers."

"No!" snapped the younger one. "I told you, no killing -"

_"Would both of you buffoons shut up?!"_

"We're going to tell Dumbledore," Harry warned. "He's going to know about this - he'll deal with you. You can't hide much longer -"

"Oh shut up," snapped the Professor. "Tell Dumbledore if you want - I honestly don't care. Right now, all I want is to get rid of _those two." _He waved a hand in the direction of the two strangers.

"But Dumb Whore said we could stay!" protested the younger stranger.

"Dumb - who the bloody hell are you on about?" Professor Kirkland shook his head in disbelief. "Anyway, I must be off now."

"No!" Harry glared at him. "Tell us who you are!"

Professor Kirkland sighed, and raised his eye's to meet his. "Harry?"

Harry's jaw clenched. "What?"

"Shut the hell up, and stop being annoying."

The Professor took a step out of the room, and was followed closely by the two strangers. Hagrid stood still, looking unsure of what to do.

"I still don' get wha's goin' on," Hagrid muttered, shaking his head.

"Oh my," Hermione whispered. "What...what do we do?"

"I should have pulled my wand out," Harry muttered, his expression dark.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Should've hexed the bloke."

"We need to speak to Dumbledore," Hermione said, her voice strained. "We need to tell him what we saw - what we know...the Professor...he might be dangerous."

"Or an impostor," Ron added.

"Ey, wha' are ye on abou'?" Hagrid demanded. "Impostor's? Really now - I don' wan' you spreadin' aroun' this type o' thin'."

"You don't understand, Hagrid," Harry denied. "What we saw..."

"Ye shouldn' be in 'ere anyway," Hagrid said. "Wha' if Snape foun' out?"

"Hagrid -"

"Come on, you lot. Go back ta yer rooms."

"We need to go to Dumbledore's office," Harry replied, hurriedly. "We have to tell him - _now."_

He hurried out the door and pushed past Hagrid, followed close behind by Hermione and Ron.

...

"But...Professor Kirklan' and tha rest o' em, are there..." Hagrid stared after the disappearing figures for a moment, wondering if he should follow.

A moment later he shook his head; it's not like he had any idea what was going on.

Turning away from the chaos, he headed back to his hut, looking forward to a good sleep.

...

**AN:**

**So, America and Russia are finally at Hogwarts! The Golden Trio will be meeting them properly...soon...but first, well, they need to deal with their shock xD **


	20. Chapter 20

Dumbledore glanced up, smiling pleasantly, as the door to his office burst open.

"Ah, hello Arthur," he greeted. "I have to say, I was expecting you."

Ignoring his greeting, England stormed over, his expression clouded with rage.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" he demanded. "Why the _bloody hell _would you allow those two into the school?! Are you out of your bloody mind?!"

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment.

"I assume you are talking about our newest visitors?" Glancing behind him, Dumbledore's smile grew wider. "Ahh...and here they are now."

_"Yes _I _know _that," England snapped. "I want to know why you allowed them into the school!"

"Hey Dumb Whore!" America waved, cheerily. "What's up?"

"Oh for _godsake!" _England whirled around and glared at him. "His name isn't -"

"Oh, it's quite alright," Dumbledore said, cutting him off. "I am always ready to try knew things - nicknames are one of them."

England stared at him, looking disbelieving.

"Nothing much has happened," Dumbledore told America, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I have simply been trying a few of the new sweets I picked up from Honeydukes."

"Dude, awesome," America said. "I've just been talking with Iggy."

"Don't _call _me that!" England glared at him.

"Ahh, if it isn't the fairy headmaster." Russia took a few steps forward and smiled. "It is nice to see you again - we really must have a conversation. You see, there is something that I failed to mention to you the last time I saw you."

"I'm sorry," England spluttered. "Did you just call him the _fairy headmaster?!"_

"Yes." Russia nodded his head.

"Unfortunately, I am only a wizard," Dumbledore told him. "As for that conversation - well, go on."

"Oh this is just ridiculous," England muttered. "Just tell them to leave, and we can all get on with our lives."

Ignoring him, Russia directed his full attention towards Dumbledore.

"A while ago, my country was attacked by a group of wizards," he said. "Soon after, it was attacked again."

He stared at Dumbledore, looking expectant.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," England snapped. "You're telling me you came all the way here, just to tell us about some terrorist attack?!"

"It was _your _wizard's that attacked my country, England," Russia replied, a hint of malice slipping into his voice.

"Oh please," England snorted. "Why would anyone bother to attack Russia? You have one of the smallest magical communities out there."

"It's true," America interjected. "They attacked me too. They were those Death Eaters you mentioned once - I'm sure of it."

"Preposterous." England shook his head. "Why on earth would they bother attacking foreign countries? What would be the point?"

Dumbledore coughed, loudly. The three nations turned to face him.

"Yes, well," he said. "It may not be as...'preposterous' as you think it is, Arthur."

"You know something about it?" Russia took a step forward, his expression darkening. "Were you responsible for this?!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" England glared at him. "Albus has nothing to do with Voldemort!"

"Perhaps I should explain things to you," Dumbledore suggested.

Russia glanced at him; he then turned to face America.

"Shall I hammer the head of the fairy?"

"Dude," America said. "He's a _wizard -"_

"Would both of you shut up?!" England turned to face Dumbledore. "Go on then, Albus. Tell us what's been going on - because _I _certainly have no idea."

"Well, you see...as you know, Voldemort has once again risen."

"Dude, no," America replied. "How would I know that? I barely pay any attention to my magical community, let alone Iggy's."

"Shut up, you idiot, he was talking to me," England snapped.

"I am talking to all of you," Dumbledore corrected. "But yes...Voldemort has once again risen. The Ministry continue to deny his return but...well, we all know the truth."

"Dude, _no." _America shook his head. "Iggy know's that - the Commie-bastard and me don't."

"The Commie-bastard and _I," _England corrected.

Russia glowered at him.

"Yes, well..." Dumbledore glanced at England. "Arthur, before I approached you, I spoke to a number of magical communities from other countries. I thought I may be able to gain more help that way - increase our chances of defeating Voldemort -"

"So you asked _Russia?!" _England sounded disbelieving.

"What is wrong with my country?" Russia growled. He fingered his pipe.

"Nothing!" England replied, quickly. "I'm just saying - you don't exactly have a large, flourishing magical community, like I do -"

"Are you saying you are better than me?"

"I wasn't -"

"Dudes, can we get back to the story?" America turned to Dumbledore. "Keep going, Dumb Whore."

"Yes, well, as I said - I spoke to a number of magical communities on the matter. France and Bulgaria were my first choices - both have rather large magical communities. However, both refused."

"Of course they did," England muttered. "Bloody France."

"America was my next choice," Dumbledore continued. "I spoke to their ministry - they didn't give me a definite answer. I spoke to Russia's ministry soon after -"

"So my country was attacked because of you?" Russia's eyes narrowed.

"Unfortunately, it certainly seems as if I indirectly had a part in it," Dumbledore sighed. "I'd tried to keep it as secretive as possible - obviously, it hadn't worked very well. Voldemort found out."

"So, why did he attack us?" America asked. "Was it because our magical communities had agreed to help?"

"It was to warn them off." Dumbledore settled back in his chair and sighed. "After the second attack, the Russian magical community backed right out. I assume that they didn't want to get involved in something they had nothing to do with."

America's eyes narrowed. "And then they attacked my country."

"Hold on a minute." England turned to stare at Russia and America. "Are you trying to tell me that _both _your magical communities had been considering helping mine -"

"You don't have to thank us, Iggy," America interjected.

"I wasn't going to thank you, you idiot," England snapped. "I was going to ask why the bloody hell neither of you had heard about it."

"My magical community is tiny," Russia responded. "I really see no point in bothering myself with them."

"...They are citizens of your country." England sounded slightly disbelieving.

"I think you will find, my country is very large," Russia replied.

"Wizard's really don't do much, other than shoot out bright lights from long sticks," America said. "So yeah...I mean, the lights are pretty cool, but I can't make them. So why bother?"

"...They're your _citizens."_

"Well, yeah." America scratched the back of his head. "But uh...my country is pretty big too."

England shook his head, looking disbelieving.

"So," Dumbledore said. "I think that should answer your question. Of course, we have lost the help that the Russian and American magical communities had been considering giving us - and I haven't heard a word from any of the other countries I contacted." He stared at Russia and America for a moment. "Perhaps if you two could have a word with -"

"No can do, Dumb Whore," America interjected.

"It is funny how the fairy thinks that I actually care," Russia chuckled.

"He's a _wizard," _England snapped.

"Right, well." Dumbledore continued to smile, despite the dismissal. "Now that all of that has been cleared up, how much longer will you two be staying with us?"

England's expression changed to one of horror.

_"What?!" _he exclaimed. "They aren't staying! They're leaving, right away!"

"And what makes you say that?" Russia raised one eyebrow. "Perhaps I would like to stay in the ugly castle for a little longer."

"Albus!" England stared at Dumbledore, desperation in his eyes. "Tell them to leave!"

"Now, now," Dumbledore replied. "I see no reason why they can't stay. After all, Alfred is your brother, isn't he? Family is always welcome."

England glared. "He isn't my family!"

"You can't choose your family," Dumbledore pointed out.

"I didn't choose anything," England snapped. _"He _made that decision."

America lowered his eyes.

"Ahh." Russia smiled. "There is tension, da?"

"You two may stay as long as you like," Dumbledore said. "And I'm sure, once Arthur gets over his...surprise...he will be very pleased."

England glared. "No I bloody won't!"

"Dude, Iggy, can't we stay for just a bit?" America stared at England with wide eyes. "I haven't been in this place for years!"

"No!"

"We will be staying, da?" Russia smiled. "I would like to examine this hideous place. It might prove to be useful."

England stared at him. "What the bloody hell do you mean by _that?"_

"Excellent." The three nations turned to stare at Dumbledore; the headmaster smiled. "I'll organize some rooms for you two, then."

"They aren't staying!" England cried.

The doors of the office suddenly opened, and three figures entered the room. England immediately groaned when he saw who they were.

"Hey! It's those dude's from before!" America waved, a smile spreading across his face.

Harry's eyes drew upwards and narrowed when he caught sight of the occupants in the room.

"Oh," he muttered; England could hear the unease in his tone. "It's you lot."

"Ah, my dear boy," Dumbledore greeted, smiling broadly. "What can I do for you?" Glancing past Harry, he extended his smile to Ron and Hermione.

"I...uh..." Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment; he glanced at England, and then at America and Russia, looking unsure.

"We'll be leaving then," England said, moving towards the doorway. Russia and America followed close behind.

England hesitated for a moment and then turned back.

"They aren't staying for more than a few days," he growled. "Alright?"

"It would be rude of me to put a limit to their stay," Dumbledore responded. "They may leave when they please."

England shot him a glare and then stormed out of the room, muttering obscenities under his breath.

"Dude, I love Dumb Whore," America cried, once they were a fair distance away from the office.

"Oh shut up, you idiot," England muttered.

...

"What were they doing in here?" Harry's voice was tinged with unease. "And...are those other two staying?"

Behind him, Hermione and Ron exchanged uneasy glances.

"They are," Dumbledore responded. "Lovely, isn't it?"

"Professor..." Hermione took a step forward. "I...we have something to talk to you about."

"Yeah." Ron nodded his head. "It's about Professor Kirkland."

"Oh?" Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "And what seems to be the issue?"

"Well...uh..." Harry struggled to find the words to express what he had seen in the penseive.

"He's dead," Ron said.

Well...that worked.

"I'm sorry?" Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? I just saw Arthur and, let me tell you - he is very much alive."

"No, Professor," Harry replied, shaking his head. "We don't think that it's really him - we were looking through Snape's penseive and -"

"You were looking through Snape's penseive." Dumbledore stared at Harry, his eyebrows raised. "Can I assume that you did not have permission to do this?"

"We had a good reason." Harry lowered his eyes to the floor. "But...uh...that isn't the point. The point is, we saw Professor Kirkland die. Voldemort...he _killed _him."

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment.

"Yes," he said at last. "I know."

For a few moments, no one said anything.

_"What?!" _Harry gaped at him. "How...what do you _mean _you know?!"

"Professor." Hermione's voice sounded slightly choked. "How - what on earth - I mean, does that mean Professor Kirkland is...dead?"

"No." Dumbledore smiled at them.

"What?" Ron sounded bewildered. "You just said the bloke was dead!"

"I said he died," Dumbledore corrected him. "I never said he was dead."

Harry let out a noise of frustration. "What does that even _mean?!" _

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment.

"I cannot tell you that," he said, at last. "That is information that Arthur will disclose to you, if he feels the need to."

"But he died!" Hermione cried. "And...now he's alive! And you're saying that it's really him...how is that possible?!"

"I trust Arthur with my life," Dumbledore responded. "Of course, I cannot ask you to do the same - you do not know him as well as I do. But trust _me."_

"Tell us what's going on," Harry pleaded. "Please - you won't tell me anything, at least explain this to us."

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot to that."

"...So that's it?" Harry's voice was disbelieving. "You aren't going to tell us? We don't get an explanation?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am sorry."

Harry stared at him for a moment; then he stormed out. Hermione and Ron followed close behind.

The door slammed shut behind them.

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed, to the empty room. "I have no doubt that you and your friends will discover it all, on your own."

**...**

**AN:**

**Tell me what you think :D**


	21. Chapter 21

In America's opinion, it was pretty cool that Dumb Whore had allowed him and Russia to stay. After all, the guy had no obligation to do so. He could have told them to fuck off, like England had been more than happy to do.

Hogwarts was...surprisingly smaller than he remembered. But then, it probably had something to do with the fact that he was no longer a few feet tall.

It was _still _pretty awesome though.

"Hey dudes!" he called out to a nearby group of students. They shot him odd looks and made no move to reply. America paused his stride to study them for a moment, taking in the green on their uniforms.

"Hey," he said, "you guys are those Slither-whats-its, right?"

They all simultaneously sneered at him.

"...Creepy."

America continued on his way.

He thought about England's reaction to his and Russia's arrival; it had gone _exactly _how he'd expected. Sure, he could joke as much as he wanted about how Iggy would be fucking _thrilled _to see him but the truth was, he knew it would be the complete opposite. It was actually kind of sad...the last time he'd been here, things had been so great...

...Then again, it wasn't as if things had been like that for a long time...

A loud giggle brought him out of his thoughts. America turned around, his eyebrows raising when he caught sight of the people standing behind him.

"Hey dudes," he said.

The two girls giggled again.

America inwardly frowned; it was actually kind of creepy how synchronized things were around here...

"I'm sorry," giggled one of the girls. "I don't think I've ever seen you before - are you a new student?"

"Uhh..." America thought for a moment. Did he have a cover story for why he was here, or was he just some random who happened to be in the school?

He decided to go with the latter.

"I'm just some random who happens to be in the school," he told them.

The two girls giggled in response.

"Oh, that sounds brilliant," said the other girl. "Do you have a name?"

"Err...sure..." America stared at them for a moment, wondering what the _hell _they found so funny. "I'm Alfred."

"Oh, I love your accent!" The first girl who had spoken shot him a large smile and - unsurprisingly - giggled again.

"Really?" America blinked in surprise. "That's...weird. Usually you British dudes tend to hate everything about the US of A. Well...at least Iggy does..."

"I'm Lavender," the girl told him, fluffing up her blonde hair as she did. "And that's Parvati."

She nudged the girl standing beside her, who mirrored her friends actions.

"Well...cool, I guess." America smiled at them. "So, you guys students here?"

"Oh yes," Lavender said, nodding her head. "We're fifth years - are _you _a fifth year?"

"No," America replied. "I told you, I'm just a random."

"Oh right..." Lavender pouted slightly. "Well, that's too bad. I think it would have been _brilliant _if you were. We need more...foreign accents around here."

"You should say that to Iggy," America laughed. "He'd have a heart attack."

"Oh," Parvati said, "is 'Iggy' American too?"

America stared at her for a moment.

"...You should say that to him too."

"So, Alfred," Parvati said (was it just him or had she put _a lot _of breath into that sentence?). "Want to come to the lake with us?"

Beside her, Lavender batted her eyelashes.

"Wow," America murmured, his eyes widening. "You have _freakishly long _eyelashes."

Lavender beamed at him. "Thank you."

America frowned slightly because, well...that hadn't been a compliment. Oh well; if she wanted to take it as one, he didn't have too much of a problem with it.

"I can't go to the lake," he apologized. "I mean, I would but uh...I have stuff to do. Yeah, that's right - I have stuff to do."

Lavender pouted, while Parvati looked disappointed.

"That's too bad," she sighed.

"Yeah," Lavender agreed. "But then...maybe we'll see you around sometime?"

"Well maybe." America shrugged. "I mean, I'm going to be here for a while..."

The two girls giggled again; America inwardly cringed.

"I have to go," he told them. He headed away, trying to keep his pace slow and not...well, not run off.

Once he had rounded the corner, he sighed and shook his head. In all honesty, a walk around the lake would have been nice...however, the thought of spending time with those two girls, while they giggled at empty air was...slightly disturbing actually.

...Maybe they saw things that weren't there, like Iggy did...

...

Neville didn't quite know what was going on, or what the freakishly tall male standing in front of him was trying to say, but whatever it was, it didn't seem good.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to keep any inklings of fear our of his voice. "What's going on?"

The man smiled; despite the seeming pleasantness of it, Neville was _sure _that he wasn't imagining the menacing edge to it...

"You will become one with Russia, da?"

"Russia?" Neville swallowed, heavily. "You mean...that country?"

The smile grew larger.

"Er..." Neville lowered his eyes and coughed, awkwardly. "I don't...really understand. I've never been to Russia."

The man didn't seem bothered by this. "That does not matter - you do not have to have gone there to become on with it."

"I...do you want me to move there?" Neville's brow furrowed. "No thanks...I mean, I'm sure it's a great place, but -"

The man's hand drifted across something; Neville's eyes widened when he caught sight of what it was.

A pipe.

"I will be seeing you, da?" The man nodded his head, before heading off in the opposite direction. Neville stared after him, his eyes wide.

What the _hell _had that been about?

...

"You know," Ron said, taking a seat down next to Harry and Hermione. "I was just talking to Neville, and the bloke was ranting on about some 'tall creep with a pipe' who was asking him to become one with Russia."

Harry raised one eyebrow. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Well, yeah." Ron nodded his head. "I thought it might have something to do with those strange blokes that showed up yesterday."

Hermione lifted her head slightly, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Do you mean the ones that were with Professor Kirkland?"

"Yeah," Ron replied. "Those ones. Weird that they're still around, huh?"

"No," Harry responded, bitterly. "Dumbledore's a real fan of Kirkland, isn't he?"

Neither Hermione, nor Ron, made any move to defend either of their professors.

"We need to find out what's going on," Hermione sighed. "What we saw in that penseive...it wasn't normal. People don't just _die _and then _come back to life."_

"I know," Harry muttered. "You'd think that would tell Dumbledore that something was wrong. _No one _can be that blind."

Ron frowned for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Do you think Dumbledore knows about it?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe...not that I would know about it if he did." He glared, bitterly.

"I don't know whether Dumbledore knows about it or not," Hermione responded. "Whatever it is, I think we need to find out what's going on. Something isn't right."

"You think those new blokes are like the Professor?" Ron stared at his friends questioningly. "He seems to know them pretty well."

"He seems to _hate _them pretty well," Harry muttered.

"It doesn't matter if he loves them or hates them," Hermione replied, firmly. "We just need to find out what's going on. If they're involved..."

"...Then we need to start paying more attention to them," Harry finished.

Ron grimaced slightly. "If this means spending quality time with them, I am _not _having anything to do with the bloke with the pipe."

...

"You know, Flying Mint Bunny," England sighed. "I bloody hate America - hate him with a fiery passion that rivals that of the fires of hell."

"I love you," Flying Mint Bunny told him.

England smiled slightly. "I know you do."

Flying Mint Bunny stared at him for a moment longer. "You should probably stop drinking that."

England took a swig from the bottle of alcohol he was holding, and stared miserably at the wall.


	22. Chapter 22

"So dude, you're that weird guy from the other day, right? The one who kept saying that Iggy was dead?"

The boy in front of him raised one eyebrow, looking half-curious, half-amused. Harry nodded his head, trying to hide the apprehension he was feeling. If this boy was anything like Professor Kirkland...well then, the last thing he needed was for him to realize that they were on to him.

"Yeah," Harry responded. "I'm Harry Potter - and you are...?" He raised one eyebrow, expectedly.

"I'm Alfred Jones, dude," the boy responded, grinning widely. "All the way from the U S of A. Pretty awesome, right?"

"America, really?" Harry raised one eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. In reality, the fact that the boy was American oozed through from his accent and his general behaviour. Harry needed to keep him talking though.

"Yeah!" the boy - Alfred - nodded his head, looking enthusiastic. "It's that one _awesome _country in North America -"

"Uh, yeah," Harry laughed. "I uh...know where America is..."

"Well of course you do! It's _way _too heroic for you not to have heard of it -"

As the boy rambled on about the amazingness of America, Harry leaned back, thinking about the plan he, Hermione and Ron had brewed up. The idea was that they'd each follow one of the three, have a conversation with them, observe their movements, and try to find anything suspicious or odd about their behaviour or responses.

So far...well, _everything _about the male in front of him was odd. Alfred was just -

...Wait, _Alfred?!_

"Alfred?!" Harry blurted out. The American paused his ramble.

"Yes?" he asked, blinking expectedly.

"I..err..." Harry forced himself to think back to Christmas, and the stories that they'd been sharing with each other. He thought specifically back to Professor Kirkland's; hadn't his brother's name been Alfred?

"Um...you're Alfred," Harry muttered, staring at the boy.

"Yes," Alfred replied, slowly. "I am. Is that a problem?"

"Ah..." Harry chewed on his lip, contemplating whether or not to mention his sudden discovery. "You...you know Professor Kirkland, right?"

The boy narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly. If Harry hadn't been on guard for _any _sudden movements, he wouldn't have even noticed it.

"Yes," he responded. "I mean, that's why Rus - er, Ivan and me are here. To see Iggy."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "Iggy?"

"Yeah...ah, that's your Professor. You know...Professor Kirkland..." Alfred coughed, looking slightly amused. _"Dude _it's weird to call him that!"

"So you and...Iggy..." Harry's bit back a grin of amusement at that; it was just hard to think of the often-stern professor as _Iggy. _It would be like calling Professor McGonagall 'Minnie' or Professor Snape 'Sevvie.'

...Okay, _that _was a scary thought.

"Yes," Alfred prompted.

"...You guys have known each other for a long time?" Harry decided against simply blurting out all of his knowledge; he wanted to see what the other male would say.

"...Yeah we have." Alfred leaned back and smiled, easily. "We...we were - er, we're brothers."

Harry frowned slightly at that because, in all honestly, he'd been expecting Alfred to deny that particular relationship with Professor Kirkland.

"Yeah." Harry nodded his head. "He...he mentioned you once."

Alfred perked up slightly at that. "He did?" He sounded eager. "What did he say?"

Harry considered the question for a moment. "Well..." he said, at last. "He said you set someone's pants on fire."

Alfred stared at him, looking surprised.

"It was a Christmas story," Harry added, quickly.

"Oh yeah..." Alfred shook his head. "...Weird that he remembered that..."

"Well." Harry shrugged. "I guess it's not really something you forgot."

Frowning slightly, Alfred shook his head. "Oh you'd be surprised..."

"So..." Harry thought for a moment. What could he possibly say to get some answers about what he had seen in the penseive? It wasn't like he could just _ask _the bloke about how his brother had died and come back to life...

"Dude?"

Harry jumped slightly. "I was...just curious, that's all. I mean, you kind of popped up out of nowhere so..."

"Oh yeah, that's understandable." Alfred nodded his head. "Actually, I just wanted to see Iggy - and stop Ivan from killing him, but that's another story - but yeah, we got here, and Dumb Whore said we could stay, so..."

"Dumb Whore?" Harry stared at Alfred, blankly.

"Yeah!" Alfred nodded his head. "You know, you're Headmaster? The dude is _awesome _by the way. Anyway yeah, he said we could stay so...I guess we're here for a bit."

Harry frowned slightly. "Does Dumbledore know you well?"

"Me?" Alfred shook his head. "Nah, the guys never met me before. He knows Iggy really well though. I've heard that they go _way _back."

"Do you know how?"

Harry worried that he had gone too far when Alfred sat up straighter, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"Oh, no reason," Harry responded, hurriedly. "I was just curious, that's all. They seem to know each other really well."

"Well, yeah..." Alfred relaxed slightly. "I told you, they go way back. But Harry - do you mind if I ask _you _something?"

Harry nodded his head.

Alfred stared at him for a moment. "What," he said, at last, "was all that stuff you were going on about the other day? About Iggy being dead?"

Harry stiffened and lowered his eyes, feeling his heart rate quicken.

"It was nothing," he replied, quickly. "I just saw something and I freaked out a bit...really, it's nothing to worry about."

Alfred frowned slightly but shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay dude, if you say so." A sudden smile stretched across the other male's face.

"Dude!" he exclaimed. "Want me to tell you some more about the good old U S of A? You know we have fifty states, right?"

Harry tried to hide his horror.

...

After hesitating for a moment, Hermione knocked on the door in front of her.

"Yes?" called the voice on the other side.

Hermione swallowed slightly; any other day (as much as she would deny it out loud) she would have been _thrilled _to be here. Today however...well, she couldn't get the image of Professor Kirkland's dead body out of her mind.

"It's me," she said, opening the door.

"Ah." Professor Kirkland sat forward in his chair. "Ms. Granger. What can I do for you?"

Hermione stared at him, frozen in her spot.

"Ms. Granger?" he prompted.

"Ah..." Hermione took a deep breath. "I...I want to talk to you about...about..."

"Ms. Granger," Professor Kirkland cut her off. "_Please _tell me this isn't about the other day?"

"Other day?" Hermione's eyes widened and her heart rate quickened. "I don't...I don't quite know what you're talking about -"

"The penseive."

Hermione froze.

"I..." She swallowed, heavily. "No - I mean, this isn't -"

"Because Ms. Granger -" Professor Kirkland sat forward, staring at her with raised eyebrows. "I thought Albus had discussed this with you but...well, I don't know _what _you saw but I think you've gotten the wrong idea."

Hermione nodded her head, weakly.

"Now." Sitting back, he narrowed his eyes at her, looking annoyed. "I don't know what you think but listening to crazy accusations _is not fun. _Especially not with that bloody yank and that barbarian standing in the room."

"I..." Hermione fumbled for words. "I think...well, I know what I saw -"

"No you don't."

There was a brief pause.

"You really don't know what you saw," the Professor responded. "You _think _you do but you have no idea."

Hermione said nothing.

"So now, tell your friends to stop looking into things they have no idea about - you do the same thing - and leave this alone. Please - I already have to deal with _those _idiots, I don't need another three added to the mess."

Swallowing heavily, Hermione took a step back and exited the room.

"Did he just call us idiots?" she muttered, as she closed the door behind her and walked down the corridor.

...

Ron didn't know how it had happened but _somehow _he'd ended up being stuck with the worst of the lot.

"Hey there," he said, trying to hide his fear. "I'm...I'm Ron Weasley."

"Da," said the Russian male in front of him. "You are the one from the other day. I remember you."

"Um..." Oh god, _why _had he agreed to this? "Yeah, that was me...and my mates, Harry and Hermione."

"Da, I know." The man nodded his head. "What do you want?"

Ron stared at the smile on the other man's face, wondering how the _bloody hell _it could have held so much malice in it.

"Um..." Why was he here again? Oh yeah; he was trying to find answers...

"So er...why are you here? At Hogwarts I mean?"

He was met with silence. With fear in his eyes, he stared at the male in front of him. He stared back, a pleasant smile stretched across his face.

Malice; _why _was there so much malice on that face? Ron's eyes drifted away, focusing on the item held in the man's hands. Wait, was that a _pipe?!_

"...I'm going to live," Ron said, hurriedly standing up. He winced and shook his head. "I mean leave - I'm going to _leave. _Because you know, even if I didn't leave, I'd still live -"

"I came here to murder the man you know as Arthur Kirkland."

Ron froze; his eyes widened and he stared at the man in disbelief.

"Uh..."

The man smiled at his obvious discomfort.

"I'm going to leave," he told the man, backing away. "You - go back to doing what you were doing, okay mate?"

"Do you like my pipe?" the man asked, lifting it slightly.

Ron bolted out of the room.

...

"It's his brother."

"What?" Hermione stared at Harry, confusion stretched across her face. Beside her, Ron shared a similar expression. It was a change from the dejected looks the two had been sporting when Harry had entered the room.

"The one I was talking to," Harry said, "he's Professor Kirland's brother. Alfred."

Hermione's eyes widened and she sat forward. A look of excitement spread across your face.

"Really?" She sounded excited. "Oh Harry, that's brilliant!"

"What?" Harry sounded disbelieving. "No it isn't. If he's related to the Professor, that means we have _two _of...whatever they are to deal with."

"Three," Ron muttered. "There is no _way _that creepy Russian bloke isn't a creature of the undead."

"Oh Ron, we don't know _what _they are," Hermione sighed. "I wouldn't go calling them 'creatures of the undead.' But Harry -" She turned her attention back to him. "This is good, see? Now we have another lead to go off. We had close to nothing before."

"Yeah I guess..." Harry frowned slightly.

"Did he say anything else?" Hermione pressed. "Anything that could help us figure out what they are?"

"No," Harry responded. "I asked why they came here but nothing really stood out from what he said."

"Oh." Hermione looked slightly disappointed. "Well, that's too bad."

"Did you two find anything useful?"

"Other than the fact that I'm likely to die before the end of the year?" Ron snorted. "Nope. Nothing."

"The Professor wasn't very...friendly," Hermione coughed. "I don't think he's too happy about what happened the other day."

"So no then," Harry sighed. "Well...I guess it's good that I spoke to Alfred then. He's much easier to pull information from than Professor Kirkland, that's for sure. In fact, I think he talks a little _too _much." He shuddered slightly.

"Well then." Hermione sat forward, looking eager. "Perhaps we should be paying more attention to him. If he's the Professor's brother, then he _must _be like him, right?"

"Well," Ron said, "I'd rather talk to that bloke than the other one."

"Oh I don't know," Harry sighed. "It _really _isn't that pleasant."

"Mate." Ron stared at him for a moment. "I just got my life threatened. I don't think talking to Alfred could be any worse than that Russian bloke."

Harry snorted. "Then why don't _you _listen to hours of extensive detail on all _fifty _states - and some of their capitals - of America?"

"I'm pretty sure he was implying that he'd kill me with his pipe."

"Well then." Hermione stood up. "This actually turned out quite well. We have a bit of a lead now - a bit later, we'll have a chat with Alfred and see if we can manage to pull anymore information from him. How does that sound?"

"Sure thing," Harry responded. "As long as _you _are willing to do it."

**...**

**AN:**

**Know it took a bit of time for me to post out this chapter, so sorry for the wait.**

**Hope you enjoy this :)**


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